


But....Bad Boys Bring Heaven To You

by PrinceofDarkness15



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PLEASE i'm begging you read the tags!, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Size Kink, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M, please read the tags and stay away if things trigger you!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27621995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceofDarkness15/pseuds/PrinceofDarkness15
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 42
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

_Have you ever wanted to put yourself in the hands of a man whose sole purpose in life is to give you complete pleasure?_

The words flashed across Rey Johnson's laptop screen. She sucked in a sharp, shocked breath. She'd met this man in an online chat room just less than three minutes ago? How could he possibly know that? He must have guessed, had to have guessed. 

She hadn't told him anything about herself, not one single thing, except her name and the fact that she wanted to interview him for her cable TV show. But even through her stunned silence, he kept peeling back layers of all of her most forbidden, her darkest secrets. 

_Do you want a real man to see inside you, all the way to your inner most fantasies, the darkest ones you don't even tell your closest friends about, and make every single one of them come true?_

A surge of arousal coiled deep within her belly. Her palms began to sweat. Rey swallowed hard. 

In the silent living room shadowed with many colors of dusk, Rey squirmed on the black leather sofa, shoving desires she didn't dare admit to the very back of her mind. This was business. He was business. It wasn't a good idea to have for the hots for the next interview subject for her show. It might be late-night cable talk, but _A 1,000 Ways To Turn Me On_ was her job, her brainchild, her little rebellion....her _very_ life.

Besides, aching for a guy---client in this case whos real name she didn't even know, whos face she'd never seen--whose lifestyle she shouldn't even begin to ponder over---was just plain dumb.

 _So, Master B, is that what a dominant does? Dish out fantasies galore?_ she typed in response, determined to keep the conversation as light as possible. 

_One of the things, but that would be oversimplifying the relationship,_ he responded at length. _His most important goal is to earn his partner's trust. Trust is extremely important in any relationship, of course, but especially in one involving Dominance/submission. Without that, how can a woman freely put herself in a man's care and know that her well-being and safety will always be first? How can she know that her master will understand her so that he can make her every wicked fantasy come true?_

Dominance wasn't just about tying someone down to the bed and screwing them into the mattress? Surprise wrinkled Rey's brow. Trust, care and understanding---she had to admit, that all sounded like a fantasy in itself. 

Certainly, she'd been lacking those specific qualities in her relationship with her ex-fiancé, Poe---especially when it came to the understanding part. 

_Trust allows a woman to connect with the primitive part of her that craves the utter surrender of being at her master's complete mercy, despite not knowing if his plans for her involve pleasure, pain or both._

Rey couldn't deny that Master Ben intrigued her more now than when one of the production assistants, Amylin Holdo had given her is bio. Toggling to her email earlier that evening, she opened the bio she'd been given and scanned it over again:

_A member of the BDSN and D/s scene for over nearly ten years, Master B is experienced in all facets but continues to learn in his own time. He owns a personal security company and has been bodyguard to senators, international diplomats, and famous celebrity athletes. A West Point graduate, he also served in the military's Special Forces as a team leader before being honorable discharged._

Rey clicked the email closed. The paragraph revealed a lot about a man whose words made her shiver with dark fantasies. Self-discipline, honor, strength. Yet the blurb said very little at the same time. Who was this guy? Could he really bind and tease a woman into making her beg for him?

 _Rey?_ Her name suddenly flashed across the screen. _Are you still there?_

_Sorry. I was just thinking. Clearly, I have a lot to learn about in order to do the show properly. I guess I just thought it was all about red velvet ropes and handcuffs, you know the whole Christian Grey thing._

_Oh trust me, it's about that too :)_

She laughed, pushing down the ache curling in her belly...and lower. A little curiosity didn't make her depraved. Definitely not. It was just interesting to see how the other half lived.

 _But's also an exchange of power and trust,_ he typed. _A woman chooses to give her master dominion over her body as well as her mind. She willingly surrenders her flesh and free will to anything and everything that he desires._

 _What sort of surrender are we talking about here?_ a voice inside of her head demanded to know. A thousand dark images suddenly pushed themselves into her brain from the depths of her fantasies; her kneeling to this stranger's cock, him ordering her to spread her legs wide so that he could simply look at her, her bound to his bed as he prepared to take whatever he wanted.

Disturbed by the shocking turn of her thoughts, she shook them away. And ignored her rapid breathing. 

Lots of people had bondage fantasies at one time or another in her lifetime, she'd read. Having one or two herself was normal, no matter what Poe said. Rey squirmed against the leather cushions again, ignoring any extra moisture forming between her legs.

 _But a D/s relationship is also about a lot more than just the sex_ , Master B typed.

_How do you put someone in manacles, blindfolds, and dark rooms but still earn he trust through all of that? How do you develop an emotionally gratifying relationship when one person has all of the power?_

_It's not like that at all._

Rey's gaze stayed riveted to her screen as she waited eagerly for more. For a long, silent moment, she held her breath...but nothing. Master B wasn't going to reply further. Just like in the bedroom, she supposed. He had the power to give or withhold. Finally, a long reply appeared in the little chat-room window.

_Sorry, but I've an urgent call. Have to go. If you feel I have the background to assist your show, let's meet. I'll answer all of your further questions then. Someplace public, so that you don't worry that I might be a serial killer hiring you into danger. I can talk faster than I type. I've mastered a lot in my young life, but not typing it seems <g>. I still hunt and peck._

Rey scuttled her impatience. Not hard to do when the man made her smile at his little jokes. 

_I completely understand,_ she answered. _Can we meet tomorrow say around three o'clock? I Goggled and found a place that seems to be popular there in downtown Manhattan, called the Sugar Monk. Do you know where that is?_

_Babe, I'm native. From Brooklyn myself. I know every crack in the sidewalk around here._

Rey smiled and typed, _Babe? I don't think we know each other well enough to start using pet names on each other just yet._

 _LOL. Pet names? I thought that was quite simple term that people used in this modern world,_ he translated.

Rey read his reply and ignored the little flutter in her belly. Filtration was clearly his thing, and he'd been raised with the surrounding culture of it. It was as natural to him as breathing, no doubt. 

_< blushing> Apparently I've been living like a hermit in my apartment too long to notice, I guess. I'll see you then?_

_You most certainly will. How will I know that it's you? There are lots of pretty girls in downtown Manhattan. I want to make absolutely sure that I reveal my innermost secrets to the right one._

He was a charmer, Rey bet. He'd have to be with his interest in wielding whips and chains. Certainly, most "normal" woman would run screaming in the opposite direction at the very thought of a little pain and a lot of obedience with their sex. 

_I'll be the one wearing a straw hat, sunglasses, a big, boxy coat,_ she answered.

 _That sounds more like a disguise,_ Master B returned.

He had no idea. And she wasn't advertising the fact she had a stalker on her trail. Rey only hoped the reason that she needed a disguise would be caught and start rotting in hell soon. 

_See you tomorrow,_ she jotted back. 

_Goodbye, Rey._

The message on her screen told her moments later that Master B left the private chat room. With a sigh, she moved to close the chat room window. Her hand trembled. No, her whole body trembled, despite the heat snaking it's way under her skin. She was tired, that's all.

_Tired doesn't make you ache in very personal places, the voice inside her head taunted. Tired doesn't make you wet._

"Tired makes me hear pesky voices inside my head," she grumbled. 

She tried so hard to push Master B, the man, aside and focus on the questions she'd ask him tomorrow. The show's outline had to be in soon, and she wanted to be prepared to launch her second season with a bang. Already, she had a growing cult following her work. With the right material in mind, the show could skyrocket. Which meant she had to keep her eye on the prize and focus on her work.

But after nearly ten minutes of staring at an empty screen, Rey admitted that Master B wouldn't leave her mind. Was the heck was that all about?

 _Other than the fact that he lives out the fantasies you've ached about?_ Rey shook her head, determined to ignore the maddening little voice. She was curious, not deviant.

No matter what Poe said or her mother would think. With a sigh, she reached for the phone and dialed the number of production assistant in New York. 

"Amylin," she said when he answered. "Hey, listen, I talked to this Master B guy you hooked me up with, and I just read over his bio. I'm meeting with him tomorrow. What's his scoop? Learn anything new and interesting about him?" 

"Yeah," she returned, her voice a little stretchy from her two-pack-a-day habit. "I did some calling around New York, asked some people at bondage clubs if they'd ever heard of him, just to make sure he's legit and all. He checks out." 

Well, that was a relief---but at the same time it wasn't. Amylin had quickly become like a surrogate mother to her, and she trusted her. But ignoring her growing curiosity about Master B would have been much easier if Amylin hadn't been able to vouch for him. If only she could have written him off as another crack-pot who wanted to talk about sex on TV.

Rey bit down on her lip....but her inquisitive nature won out. "What did everyone say about him, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh there was a bunch. He's casual, not really heavy into the lifestyle but fairly regular at a few clubs. Apparently, he has a way with women and a reputation to go with it. More than one person I talked to said that he could make Mother Teresa beg to be tied down and fucked. He most definitely wants a woman submissive. Hey, you're not interested in him, are you?"

"What?!" Rey's heart skipped a handful of beats. "Me?! No!" She scoffed "Why would I want a bully who gets off on making a woman feel inferior?"

"Are you sure?" Amylin sounded skeptical.

"Do I really seem like the type to get into this sort of stuff, Amylin?" she countered. 

Amylin said nothing. Distress coiled through Rey. A rattling of the lock at the front door had Rey's head zooming in the other direction. She sighed with relief when it was only her adopted half-brother, Finn shouldered his way inside the apartment.

"I've got to go," she told Amylin. "I'll call you after I've talked to this guy tomorrow." Shoving the conversation with Amylin out of her mind, she rose and stepped on tiptoe to hug him. "Hi! Good day?"

His aristocratic mouth pursed into a frown. "Not exactly. I have to back to London for the next three weeks."

Surprise, and Rey was honest, trepidation punched her in the stomach. "London? I thought you sat behind a desk most of the time when it came to your job."

"Mostly, but there are some exceptions."

"Oh, wow....but why London?"

"Classified." He gave her a bitter laugh. "You know the drill...I can't say where I'll be or what I'll be doing. I won't be near a phone or computer for most of the time. Rey, I don't want to leave you. It's dangerous work and I know that you're afraid for me."

She swallowed. Finn had already done so much by taking her in, despite Daddy Dearests ire, protecting her from the scum who stalked her. She was afraid, but she couldn't let Finn feel guilty for doing his job. 

"I'll be fine," She'd think of something---she had to. "I'm extremely busy with work anyway. I'll be fine, I promise."

"If anything happens, I really think you should call Dad."

Rey gapped at him, holding in a sarcastic scoff. "Look, he may be your dad. He's my biological father---the one who's been denying I exist for the past twenty-one years."

Finn sighed. "Rey, come on, you know how it is with politics, especially in the North. If people knew he'd had a fling with a barely legal volunteer had a wife and three little boys at home...."

"I know, it would ruin the senator from the great State of Maine."

"They're talking about a bid for the White House in 2020." Sympathy and regret tangled in his handsome face. 

"Exactly, which is why I can't call him. Not that he'd ever take my call, anyway."

"He would if you were in any danger. Dad can protect you."

Rey had her doubts but said nothing. "Too bad we can't just tell him that I'm your fiancé. It seems to be working with everyone else."

"Hmm, if our actual relationship ever came to light, we'd have to admit to incest or lying. Both don't sound like fun choices if you ask me, Rey." 

"We're technically, we're not blood-related, but lets' hope it doesn't come to that. I don't think my sick stalker knows that I've left L.A, so he has no idea where to even find me."

Nodding, Finn started to sift through the day's mail. When he came to a big manila envelope, he frowned. "Does anyone know that you're here in New York?"

Other than Master B, whom she'd met online all of fifteen minutes ago, Amylin and maybe a few close friends back home?

"No."

Anxiety thundered across Finn's face. "Someone here in this city knows you. This was left in the mailbox. No name, no postage. It was hand-delivered."

He held out the package to her, and Rey took it with dread boiling in the pit of her stomach. She knew that handwriting. Dear God, how had he found her here? And so quickly too? _No!_

Hands shaking, breath short, she opened the envelope and extracted the contents. As she did, red rose petals with moist centers and dead edges fluttered downward, skittering across the blond hardwood floor. They looked faintly like fat drops of blood splattered all around her.

Rey gasped. _He_ knew she was here. How the hell did he find her? Then her gaze fell to the photos. Pictures of her, one arriving at LAX the day she'd fled to New York. The next of her in at Finn's apartment wearing thin sweatpants and a tank top, her nipples teased hard by a cool morning breeze.

The last, a photo of her in her sage silk-and-lace shift with matching robe, kissing Finn's cheek as they stood in the apartment before he left for work, just this morning.

Fear biting at her belly, Rey didn't protect when Finn grabbed the photos from her numb fingers. He flipped through them with a snarled curse. "These are from your stalker, aren't they? He's been here. Son of a bitch!" 

He raked a hand through his course hair, ruffling the banker's cut, hating this man for constantly following his sister around because he had nothing better to do with his life.

"That's it! I'm calling the police on this motherfucker!"

God, she wished it were only that simple. "They can't do anything about it, Finn. The police in L.A already told me that he was going to have to do something illegal before they could spend any energy finding him. Taking pictures of me isn't against the law." 

"He's been on my property!" Finn held up the photo of her in the apartment of his New York home, his big fingers wrinkling the photo. "My apartment is private! The only way he could take this picture is by trespassing. There's a law broken here!"

He grabbed the nearest cordless phone and dialed 911. Rey just shook her head back and forth. While Finn was right, she doubted the NYPD were going to be any more motivated to do something than the cops in L.A. 

Whoever this was hadn't stolen anything, vandalized anything. He hadn't hurt anyone--yet. Rey could feel his anger building in the frequency of his contact, the fact that he'd followed her all the way to New York. And the police didn't care whatever her gut told her. 

Finn hung up the phone. "They said they'll be here soon."

Rey just shrugged....and tried to calm the panic bubbling inside her. With nothing to do but wait, she started to shove the pictures back in the envelope. When she encountered an obstruction, she realized something else lay inside. She stuck her hand between the layers of paper, perplexed. Usually the disturbed bastard only sent pictures---disconcerting, disturbingly private pictures, but nothing more. 

Not today, that is. Out of the benign brownish envelope, she yanked a scrap of paper with a scrawl of ugly black writing. 

_You belong to me. Only to me._


	2. Chapter 2

Rey swallowed a huge lump of fear. Now he was communicating with her. To her. Conveying his possessiveness towards her, his fury that she might have another man in her life. This lunatic didn't know that Finn was only her adoptive half-brother. He'd bought the cover story that Finn had concocted, as much to explain her presence at his apartment to others, as to warn off her overzealous psycho.

While the thought of being alone scared Rey, part of her was glad that Finn had to leave for London tomorrow. If something happened to him, it wouldn't be because her stalker had decided to get the "competition" out of the way. 

In the three weeks Finn would be gone for his job, she'd figure something out, find somewhere to go and hide-out, so that when he returned, she didn't endanger the only one of Senator Johnson's sons to give a rip about. She loved Finn and his safety was extremely important to him as they had been close since he was adopted into the family ten years ago.

She _needed_ him. And she _needed_ him alive and well. Maybe, like Amylin suggested before she had left L.A, she needed a bodyguard of sorts....

"You really have no idea who this creepy is!" Finn growled, staring over her shoulder at the note.

"None." She shook her head. "I wish that I did. I have no disgruntled co-workers that I'm at least aware of. My ex-fiancé left me, no the other way around."

"Maybe it's someone who's watched your show? A crazed fan who doesn't know where to draw the fucking line?"

Rey shrugged. "Maybe. I mean, I've received odd fan-mail before in the past, but nothing this threatening or privacy-invading."

"I'm going to find someone to get to the bottom of this, kiddo. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you," he vowed. 

At times like this, Rey wondered how she and Finn weren't born from the same loins. They were nothing like the man and his other greedy-power-hungry offspring to which, Rey was very grateful. One asshole with authority was bad enough in this family.

"Damn it," he cursed suddenly into the silence. "I wish like hell that I didn't have to leave tomorrow. The car is picking me up at five o'clock tomorrow morning and timing couldn't be worse. Shit! Uncle Sam can be a demanding mistress sometimes!" 

"That's part of it, right?" said Rey, looking up at him. "Or at least that's what you would normally say to me. You took this job, Finn, working for the government, doing whatever it is you do and I'm proud of you for it."

He smiled and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. Rey didn't know exactly what Finn did; he wasn't allowed to tell anyone. From things he'd said in the three years since he'd found the skeleton in their father's closest and tracked her down, she'd guessed he was in Intelligence. She had no idea what for, though.

"Finn, if you hate the job so much, and you want to leave, then why don't you just do it?"

For the first time she could remember, Finn wouldn't meet her gaze. He unclenched them with obvious effort, then said, "I can't, Rey. I took an oath and I have to see this to the end."

The following day, Rey dropped down into a wrought-iron chair of a little sidewalk café in a quaint cluster of unique shops. The February afternoon hung thick, lazy, and surprisingly sultry all around. Fighting off exhaustion after a nearly sleepless night, she glanced at her watch.

Three o'clock. She'd made good time on her drive from Midtown. Master B should be here very soon. Her stomach tightened at the thought of seeing him face-to-face.

That wasn't the only reason, though. She also felt eyes on her, watching, assessing, probing. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end. She looked around, scanned the crowd. Nothing. Rey took a deep breath, trying to quell her uneasiness. It wasn't hard to imagine that if a psycho would follow her all the way from Los Angeles to New York, he'd go the extra mile to trail her to the Sugar Monk.

She was probably safe sitting in the middle of a sunny public square, but if he recognized her, he'd see her with Master B and make assumptions that would make him even angrier than the appearance that she was marrying Finn. 

Then when night fell, and she was alone in Finn's house....

No, she couldn't think that now. She would have to keep his all strictly business, so that if her stalker identified her and watched this meeting, he wouldn't assume there was anything sexual between her and Master B. She adjusted the scarf and hat to make sure they completely covered her hair and pushed the sunglasses up on her face. 

Maybe she was being paranoid. No one should be able to recognize her like this.

Maybe after this interview, she would slip away to that cozy European-looking bed and breakfast she'd seen on her way into town and catch up on sleep so she could figure out how to shake this stalker of hers. A waiter came by with a wide smile, white teeth stark against his ebony skin. Rey did her best to smile back as she ordered herself a drink. Once he'd gone, she tugged the boxy, lightweight coat she'd dragged out of Finn's closet down over her lips and flipped up the collar. 

The waiter arrived with her drink. She checked her watch again. Five after three. She'd give Master B few more minutes. Sitting here out in the open, vulnerable to the sick man who'd been following her....suddenly it struck her as very unwise. 

"And you must be Rey."

The deep whisper came from behind her, delivered right into her left ear. His warm breath cascaded down the side of her neck, and she gave an involuntary shiver. 

She started, turned, stunned anyone had been able to sneak up on her, as jumpy as she was. But he'd been utterly silent. And he was breathtakingly gorgeous. Thick, dark hair teased his broad forehead. An angular jaw and cleft chin dusted with a five o'clock shadow shouted his masculinity with all the subtlety of a silent boom. 

His wide mouth curled up with an expression that looked half smile, half challenge. But, oh, his eyes. They captured her. Accented by a sweep of black brows, those knowing eyes of his watched her, as if he could see deep inside her. As if he knew _all_ her secrets. 

Allowing her gaze to wander south didn't help take her pulse, either. Master B stood about six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a body of a well-honed muscle evident through the tight black long-sleeved shirt that made her think of a mountain with its solid, quiet permeance. 

No one could move a mountain. No one was going to move this man either, unless he wanted to be moved first. Just staring at him jolted her with attraction and a healthy dose of lust. Thank goodness their time alone would be limited to just this one meeting in public. Otherwise, Rey didn't think she could be responsible for her behavior. 

She swallowed hard, trying desperately to find her voice. "Yes, I'm Rey." 

When she struck out her hand, he didn't just shake it. That was too simple. Tangling his gaze with hers, he bent and brought her hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on her fingers. _Oh, dear, God...._

Fire raced up her arm, turning her heartbeat into a staccato chug. He lingered, a hot breath caressing the back of her hand, his fingertips teasing the sensitive center of her palm. Tingles burst across her skin, up her arm. His effect in her didn't end there. Instead, the impact of his presence, his touch, dove deep inside her, where an ache began to pule gently between her legs. 

As if her clit needed to announce the fact that her libido wanted to get naked with this man. _Business, Johnson, business!_ The demand chased itself in her head. 

"Thank you so much for meeting me here, Mr....what would you like me to call you, since I don't know your actual name?"

The grin seemed to taunt her with her own uncertainly and his wicked knowledge of their forthcoming sexual discussion. "For now, you can just call me, sir."

"Oh okay. Yes, sir."

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Rey realized how sexual they sounded. How sexual he'd intended they'd sound. Not just deferential, though they were that, too. But around Master B, she couldn't seem to muster enough air power to her voice beyond a husky murmur. _What would it be kike to call him sir in private?_ Despite the dark sunglasses shielding her eyes, his dark eyes seemed to dance with the knowledge of her every thought, every sinful feeling, as he held her gaze, as if he could read the desire written all over her face. 

Rey used the untouched drink in front of her as an excuse to look away and scoured her brain for a safe, neutral topic. 

That was kind of a hard thing to do when she'd invited him here to talk about sex and sex alone. "So, according to the bio that I received about you, you're in the personal security business. A bodyguard, right?"

"Exactly." He shrugged those delicious massive shoulders. "I guard a lot of politics and their families, diplomats, and occasional athletes." 

"You must meet a lot of interesting people, I'm sure. Do you work with celebrities'?" she asked. 

A hint of humor curved his wide mouth to something nearing a smile. "They're too flaky. And politicians are lairs, but at least you know what to expect from them. Hollywood types are either paranoid, self-absorbed, or a psycho as the people stalking you. No thanks." 

Rey couldn't decided if she was more annoyed or amused by that statement. "Well, luckily for you, I'm none of the above." 

"Give it some time," he said. 

Incorrigible described him perfectly. A hint of arrogance laced with a healthy dose of sex appeal and a teasing sense of humor. The mixture went down real smooth, thanks to his fliration skills and hint of mid-western charm. 

No doubt, he was lethal to a woman's common sense. Rey swallowed hard. 

The waiter came by, and Master B ordered himself a cup of coffee. She shuddered when the waiter brought it to their table moments later.

"So tell me more about your show, Rey," His words should have been an invitation, but Rey heard the subtle command in them.

Not harsh, not driving. But his voice held a note of steel---one that made her stomach tighten....and her womb clench.

" _A 1,000 Ways To Turn Me On_ combines interviews and facts to explore various facets of sexual life for both established couples and the newly dating, from the vanilla to the completely way out there. Last season, I did a show one week about sex etiquette on a first date, another about "friends with benefits", then followed it up with couples who had tattoo fantasies. This will be my second season, and I was thrilled to be renewed. Since the network provides cable programming geared toward women and couples, I think it's a prefect fit."

"Hmm. Tell me about this season's shows."

Again, yet another subtle command. "Well, we're still at the ideas stage, but we're definitely pursuing shows about boudoir photography, couples massages, erotic finger panting and---"

"And Dominance and submission."

Rey swallowed. She'd been so caught up in her enthusiasm for the show and almost completely forgotten they were going to discuss that topic. The topic that fueled her shameful late-night fantasies. 

"Yes."

He quirked a dark brow at her expectantly, somehow managing to look sharp, displeased, and nonthreatening all at once. Puzzled, Rey stared. What did he want from her?

"Yes, sir," she ventured.

His smile dazzled, rewarded. "Very nice."

"I thought such forms of address were reserved for one's...."

"Submissive? Frequently, but you contacted me for a quick lesson or two. So, I thought it's best to start with a hint of the dynamic and see how you do with it." He leaned forward, an elbow braced on the table. 

His gaze poured directly into hers, molten hot like lava and unrelenting. My God, this man is so fucking gorgeous! He's literally dripping with sexual appeal and that left Rey speechless. 

"Tell me, do you fully understand what it means to submit to a man, Rey? Completely surrender to him in every way imaginable?"

Rey tried to suck in a breath, stunned to find it ragged beyond her control. His eyes flared hot with approval. She clearly needed a teacher, he could show her ways to be dominated properly by a real man---if she'd let him. 

"Th---this isn't about me," she argued breathlessly. "I just need to relate the concept to the---"

"But how can you relate without having a taste of it, babe? A little nibble isn't going to hurt you." The smile that he flashed her could only be termed pure sin. "Who knows, you might even like it."

That's exactly what Rey was afraid of. She did her best to send him an expression that was all business-like. "It doesn't really matter if I like it or not. After all, I managed to finish taping the show about couples tattoo fantasies successfully without ever getting a tattoo myself. It's all about understanding why it's important to them." 

"Paying someone to imprint a design on your skin while your significant other watches is a lot less personal than being blindfolded, naked and bound for your master's pleasure." 

With a gulp, Rey realized he was right. Worse, that nibble he offered was starting to sound like a feast to her rather neglected sex drive. 

No. This time around, Adam was offering the apple of temptation to Eve, and she was smart enough to know better. If she seemed interested, it was because he filled her head with suggestion. He was hard to ignore. She wasn't depraved, wasn't the kind of woman to get off on letting a bully chain her down and tell her what to do.

The idea was just novel. She had a purely intellectual curiosity on the concept. Okay, so maybe it was mostly intellectual. That didn't mean she should judge. Even if Master B looked like the kind of man who could have invented the concept of pleasure itself.

"What are you most afraid of?" he asked.

 _Myself._ She looked away from his intent gaze. "It's just not thing." That displeased brow snapped up again. His glare filled with impatient demand. "Sir," she added, almost against her will.

His expression softened at that. "In the few minutes that I've been sitting here, your skin has flushed, the heartbeat pulsing at your neck has accelerated, and your nipples have hardened and yet, you tell me it's not your thing. Don't blame it on the wine, it's the adrenaline you're feeling. I know the scent of arousal and I can _smell_ yours. So, I'm going to ask you again; what are you most afraid of?" 

An intense shock punched at her gut. _Oh, my...._ She'd been as easy to read as an open book. Easier, even. Rey closed her eyes, drew in a breath. Then another. Her mind raced. 

"Don't think too hard on it," he cautioned. "Lying invokes punishment."

"Punishment? You have no right!" she returned in a heated whisper.

He stared for a long moment. "I told you yesterday online that a relationship of this sort requires a great deal of trust. I trusted that you were who you said you were. In order to earn a little of your trust, I allowed your production assistant access to some very personal information of mine...and about me. That's right, sweetheart. No need to sit there and look so surprised. I knew the minute she started calling around about me. If I hadn't advised my clubs in advance that they could give your assistant information, no one would even said good morning to Amylin, much less confirmed the details of my sex life to her."

He shifted in his seat, brushing his thigh against hers, and then lifted her chin with his finger. Rey melted---a combination of shock and arousal, topped with the delicious thrill of Master B's overwhelming sex appeal. 

"Trust," he murmured. "Works both ways. I placed some in you. If we're going to work together, you need to have a bit in me. I'm not going to ravish you or force you or any other melodramatic scenario running through that head of yours. If I'm going to help you understand the psychology of Dominance and submission, you have to have enough trust to be honest with me. And with yourself. Do you understand what I'm saying?" 

"Y-yes, sir."

"Excellent. Now, for the last time, why are you so afraid of the idea of submitting"

Well, that was a rather loaded question, one she didn't really know how to answer. Rejection. Being ridiculed again. Shame. Fear of pain and degradation. And an even stronger fear that she'd love being mastered by someone like him and be unable to deal with the shame and guilt. 

She couldn't admit that---not any of it. She might as well hand him her soul on a silver platter. "Please," she whispered. "Please...."

Master B's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowed. For some crazy reason, she hated letting him down. She owed him nothing, damn it. Nothing at all.

He was an interview subject, and he'd be compensated for his time and information. Period. Fighting the dueling impulses of resisting until hell froze over and giving in, took Rey a few moments to realize that their waiter gad returned to fill Master B's coffee. Then the young guys looked at her with a confounded sort of smile.

"Some dude paid me twenty bucks to give this to you."

He then handed her a regular mailing envelope---with very familiar handwriting. The waiter departed. Her heart started pounding. The speed of light had nothing on her as she opened the envelope to find a handful of red rose petals with soft centers and dead edges. They spilled through her fingers, and she gasped, feeling all blood drain away form her face.

"No...." She looked around the sunny square with panic. "No!"

"Rey?" Master B questioned, his deep voice laced with concern.

She looked at him with wild eyes. "He's here. _Here._ Followed me. Oh, my....I have to go," She sucked in a scared breath and clenched trembling fists. "You need to hide. Now!"

Master B grabbed her by the shoulders. "Who is here and where are you going?"

Shrugging free of his touch, she looked around frantically for any face that might be dangerous or familiar to her. Most other chairs in the square sat empty, as did a few nearby windows and balconies. Shadowed store-fronts held any number of people, but they all looked like natives.

The little coffeehouse's other patrons either took little notice of her or cared even less. Like every other time her stalker had approached, he'd been as silent as smoke, as invisible as air. Panic ate at her gut.

"I can't stay here. I'm sorry...."

He grabbed her again, looking determined to shake the answers out of her. Instead, he froze, his gaze zeroed in on something across the street. 

Rey felt the energy burst through his body a second before he pushed her to the ground....hard. "Get down!"

He shoved her underneath a table and covered her body with his an instant before a gunshot erupted just above her head. So this is what it had come down to----first with the stalking, following her around from place to place, then the pictures in her mail, _now_....he was out to kill her. 


	3. Chapter 3

Benjamin Solo curled his body protectively over Rey's tiny female form and used the small iron table to shield has as another shot rang out. People around them screamed and scrambled away in the melee. He swore under his breath as she trembled violently beneath him. Damn it! Revenge was _so_ close, and now this?

He couldn't fuck his enemy's woman until she screamed his name if she was dead. Fury rattled through him, but the fact that someone else was trying to thwart his revenge plans wasn't the only reason.

Nope, he was downright pissed off that some asshole had filled such a small but vibrant young woman with complete, sheer terror. 

Admittedly, he'd lured Rey here to use her but never to physically hurt her. Just the opposite, in fact. He would find out what made her tick and fulfill ever single one of her darkest fantasies until her body hummed with satisfaction. 

Until she no longer had any interest in Finn Ross and left the son of a bitch. The jackoff currently at the other end of the gun, however, had other ideas, like planting a bullet between her eyes. Another shudder went through Rey. She held in a stiff cry. Ben hugged her tighter, shoving her right against the iron table. Saving her life was instinct. 

An occupational hazard of his. A necessity. Finn Ross had earned this revenge three years ago, and Ben planned to deliver him humiliation in spades. He wasn't about to let Rey Johnson die. 

"Come on, I'll get you out of here safely," He whispered the vow into her ear.

His churning gut demanded he draw his .38 and return fire. But there was just too many people around to take that risk. And he sensed it would scare the hell out of Rey. She was already terrified as it is, damn it. She smiled pretty for the camera for a living, she didn't dodge bullets. When the waiter had delivered the letter to their table and he'd seen the sweet flush drain from her face, leaving behind chalk-white shock as half-dead rose petals spilled into her hands, he'd smelled her fear.

After catching a glint of gunmetal in the sunlight on a roof across the street....Ben had no doubt what would happen next. He hated to be right about shit like this. 

Glancing at the chair Rey had occupied only moments ago, he saw the discolored gouges left by unforgiving bullets. He swore again. Beneath him, Rey tried to sit up. Ben held her firmly in place.

"Stay the fuck down!"

"I need to go. Run. H-Hide."

A quick glance over the table at the rooftop across the street showed their shooter had fled. Either that or had come in for a closer shot during the utter chaos. That meant they were easy targets and had to get Rey out of this open area and fast. 

" _I'll_ get you to safety," Ben emphasized, dragging Rey to her feet. "Are you hurt?" 

She shoved the hat back over her head and tightened the scarf beneath, which covered her hair. "No, I don't think so."

"Then let's run!"

He grabbed her small, cold hand in his. Engulfed it. Damn, she was tiny, much smaller than a powerful name like Rey implied. 

Taking off as fast as his long legs would carry him, Ben tugged Rey behind him, ducking upturned tables when the shots rang out again. He dragged her behind the cover of the cafe's coffee bar, then pulled her around the corner of the building, silently urging her to keep up with him. She did, clutching her hat against her head with her spare hand. 

Ben looked beyond Rey with a slight frown. There was no way to tell if the shooter was following in this crowd, but he assumed so. Better sage than dead. 

"Where are we going?"

Ben didn't answer her; he was too busy improvising a plan inside his head. In silence, he pulled up streets, down alleys. More gunshots rang out. A bullet whizzed past his ear, and he swore. If this son of a bitch harmed a hair on Rey's head, Ben was going to enjoy beating him senseless with his bare hands. Ducking into a busy store, they narrowly avoided crashing into an elderly woman.

Stepping aside so the scowling grandma and her walker could pass cost them precious seconds. As soon as the oath cleared, he took Rey's small hand in his again and tugged, forcing her to run again. 

Out the back of the store, down a narrow walkway; into a darkening alley. Thank God he knew this town as well as the shape of his own face, otherwise, he knew they'd be fucked. 

Another series of staccato blasts sounded again, this time in front of the store they'd just existed. _Shit!_ "Run faster, Rey!"

Panting, sweating, she merely nodded. And picked up the pace. At the far end of the alley, they came to a metal door with scarred black paint and red lettering that read FO: SEXY SIRENS. Even with the door closed, it vibrated with the pounding of raucous music and the rowdy crowd inside---despite the fact that it was barely three in the afternoon. 

From experience, Ben knew the door would be locked. Raising a fist, he hammered on it with all his might, not caring if he left a dent. While he waited, he looked over both shoulders to see if they were being followed. A blast of gunfire erupted, kicking out chunks of brick not six inches from Rey's head. With a quick scan of the alley, he cursed. It was rife with trash bins and overgrown with crawling vines, providing plenty of places for the shooter to hide in plain sight.

"Son of a bitch!" He banged on the beat-up metal surface again. "Someone answer the goddamn door!"

Finally, a familiar bleached blonde wrenched the door open. "Jesus Christ, Ben! What the hell is wrong?"

He pushed Rey inside, then followed her into the backroom cluttered with empty bear cans. "Shooter out there. Listen, I need your help."

A child's stick pony and a riding crop lay next to the stage entrance. Angelique had apparently just performed. He slammed the door shut behind him and scanned the darkened room, illuminated by a single red bulb and decorated with peeling black paint.

One thin door separated this area from the main stage and the throbbing music in the club beyond.

"A shooter? Holy....who have fuck have you pissed off now, Benjamin Solo?"

"Phasma, this is Rey," he shouted over the loud music. "She's the hostess of a cable TV show---"

"Holy fuck, you're Rey Johnson! I love _A 1,000 Ways To Turn Me On!_ "

Rey who had doffed her sunglasses, extended her hand to Phasma. Hmm. Blue eyes rimmed in red, a smattering freckles, very fair skin---not Finn's usual type. But times changed, he supposed. 

Ben drawled, "Then I'm assuming you'd like to help me keep her alive long enough to do more shows. The shooter was aiming at her." Ben turned to the other woman. "Rey, this is Gwen Phasma, owner of FO: Sexy Sirens. The most famous--or infamous---gentlemen's club in Manhattan, depending on your point of view."

Finn's little woman flashed a weak smile, trying her damnest not to stare at Phasma's inch-thick makeup, near-indecent skirt, and fuck-me-sideways-boots. There was nothing subtle about Phasma. She still dressed like a stripper, though she hadn't danced around a pole in years. 

She sucked a cock like a woman trying to ingest the brass off a doorknob. She had worse language than he did. But she also had a big, big soft heart. 

Phasma would use her wicked tongue to take the skin off his balls if she had any idea Rey wasn't a client but the means to achieve revenge. She might run an establishment where women took their clothes off for horny men, but she made sure that _no one_ crossed the line with any girl under her roof. 

Ben planned on crossing every single line that he could possibly thing of and then, maybe, some more. "Why the hell would someone shoot at you?" Phasma asked Rey with a frown.

"You know, that's a very good question," Ben answered, piercing Rey with an unrelenting gaze, one he hoped like hell would persuade her to tell him the truth.

He hadn't had the chance yet to establish more than the barest amount of authority. She had little reason to trust him. Damn it, another few hours, and he would have spent time in her bed, deep in her body, establishing his own dominance. He would have had some assurance that she would accept his help. As it was now....he had nothing to go on.

Not at all the way he'd planned on taking out his revenge. "Ben?" she had said his name experimentally, voice erratic, still shaking.

He wasn't at all pleased to hear the edge of fear and wariness in her voice. He much preferred a sultry "sir" coming from that pillowy mouth while she pretended indifference. 

But they'd get back to that, just as soon as he got the bottom of this shit. "Rey, tell me exactly what's going on here." 

Her skin still had all the color of a corpse, especially framed by the dark coat and the floppy hat, which was too large for her small body. She was terrified out of her mind, but still managed to nod. Ben breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Well, a-about three months ago, someone started sending me mail. Pictures of me in different places, mostly out in public. Weird, but not threatening. Then about five weeks ago, he started taking pictures me in and out around my apartment, through the windows. O-one he took of me pulling out of my driveway complex while he was in my garage. I can that he's very angry. I just don't know why. I came to New York to be with a....friend and to escape him," She blew out a breath, forged ahead. "He followed me here. I didn't know it until yesterday when this arrived."

She unzipped her boxy coat just enough to fish out a folded-over envelope from the oversized purse bisecting her chest. Rey handed it to him with a shaking hand. 

Tension gripping his gut, Ben ripped it open. Pictures spilled out. Rey in an airport, dressed in low-rise jeans, a baggy T-shirt and her hair shoved into a baseball cap. He only recognized her profile, her stubborn chin, the tiny freckles on her nose that made him wonder how far they extended down her body.

They gave him an insane urge to play connect the dots. The next one was of her reading a magazine on a patio chair.

The magazine covered her face. He saw only her hands, the cover of _People,_ a splattering of delicate freckles on the brim of her nose---and sweet, unbound breasts with ripe cherry nipples that made his mouth water, nearly visible through a thing white tank top. 

From the instant he'd heard whispers that she was his former pal Finn's fiancé, he'd been intrigued. Talking to her online had only heightened his interest. Rey in these pictures, in the flesh, engorged his cock. He couldn't wait to get her bound to his bed and begging to cum---granting his revenge. 

But there was something else about her....something pounded him with familiarity. He felt if he should know her, like he'd seen her before and not just her picture on her show's website. 

Had he ever met her? No, he would have remembered a woman like Rey. Still, there was something about her. He'd figure it out. Swallowing a lump of rising lust, Ben flipped to the last picture and froze on the spot. The always-elegant Finn Ross in a designer suit. He had his back to the camera as he leaned down to kiss Rey. Ben could see only her half-bare legs covered by a bit of green silk and black lace, and the lightly freckled arms she curled around the said Finn's neck.

The sight made his gut roll. And the haphazard scrawl of the note a the bottom of the envelope, with it's ominous, possessive tone, did nothing to ease his growing tension.

The last picture, the wife-to-be saying good-bye to her man before he left for a day at the office, also confirmed that Rey Johnson was Finn Ross's woman. She was the means to pay his old buddy back for his own stab in the back. 

He had to get Rey out of here alive and undetected to do it. "So this stalker followed you here from L.A?" he asked.

"Yes." Her voice still shook.

Ben sighed. "Dedicated and sick-as-fuck. Not a good combination. Clearly, he's smart if he's able to take pictures of you without even knowing it or his identity. He certainly knows his way around a gun. I don't think you can just walk out of here on your own unharmed, Rey. You need help and I can give it to you."

She hesitated, then spoke in a surprisingly smoky voice. "You've gotten me out of the path of bullets that surely would have likely killed me. I can't ask you to risk---"

"That's right, you didn't ask; I'm offering." The asshole clearly knew his way to Finn's house, and Rey didn't look like the kind of girl with training weapons and hand-to-hand combat. It was up to him to keep her alive. "Rey, I'm a bodyguard. I won't watch you die when I can get you out of here in one piece."

"How much?"

Jesus, someone had been shooting at her and she wanted to barter? "It's on the house. I'm offering my services to you....for free." 

Surprise widened her mouth. "But...why?"

He sent her a cool shrug. "If you're dead, there go my fifteen minutes of fame."

She lifted her red-rimmed eyes to him and shot him a cynical glare. "Seriously. It's clear that you're not a fame monger."

So she had better sense than to fall for his line. But Ben still wanted to make her look at him with those innocent hazel eyes while he force-fed her some logic. She couldn't be sane and deny that she needed his help. But he completely understood why she'd try. 

He was a relative stranger---but that wasn't her only hesitation. He'd bet every dime in his pocket on that. From their brief face time before the shooter arrived, he realized Rey had some interest in him. And that she had curiosity about his sexual learnings. More curiosity than someone merely researching a TV show. Her reluctant arousal drew him like nothing had in years. 

"That still doesn't change the fact that you need me. The shooter knows you're in this building. You can't just walk out now. I can get you out of here."

Rey set her jaw. Ben watched her fighting the urge to bite off a refusal. She didn't, proving once again that she was a fiercely smart young woman. 

"But how?"

"You'll dress as Phasma. She'll fix you up with the right amount of appropriately inappropriate clothes."

"She'll need help with the make up, too," Phasma pointed out. "I don't have freckles on my nose, Ben."

A quick glance at Rey proved she had a mere hint of cosmetics on her face face. "Okay, fine. Do it."

"No! This plan won't work." Rey protested. "I might as well walk out there right now and pray that I don't get shot right where I stand."

Waiting for her to process the truth he couldn't afford to soften for her, Ben watched Rey. Up close, he could see well-proportioned features, a full-mouth, a nearly poreless complexion, that was far too fair to be caused by anything but fear, arched brows in some indiscernible color in this dim light. 

Without Dracula's complexion, the crappy hat and scarf, or the three-times-too-big coat, he suspected that, as an all-around package, she'd be gorgeous. Senator's Ross's son would settle for anything less.

She sighed. "I don't have any other ideas."

"That's my point, Phasma, take Rey upstairs and put her in something scanty. You got any more of those blonde wigs?"

'Yep, I sure do." The bleached blonde nodded.

Rey glared. "It still won't work."

"Because….?"

"Phasma and I, we're not the same....size." 

Ben scanned the two of them. "She's taller. But you can wear her stiletto boots to give you some added height. What size shoe do you wear?"

She looked startled by the question. "Six and a half."

Ben sent Phasma a questioning look. "Hell, no," said the former stripper. "I wear an eight."

"We'll work around it," Ben said. "We'll shove toilet paper in the toes of the boots or something. It's only temporary." 

"That's not the biggest problem," Rey's gaze drifted over Phasma's surgically enhanced attributes, currently struggling to stay within the confines of a bikini top. 

Ben then let his gaze cascade Rey's small form again. He couldn't see much of her beneath the coat, but the picture's he'd seen told him that what she had under there was 100 percent natural and not on par with Phasma's silicone D cups. 

"Phasma has a knack for picking out clothes that make any woman look bodacious enough to be a centerfold." 

"And then what?" Rey fidgeted nervously, her gaze dating to the door, as if expecting her unwanted admirer to burst through it at any second. 

"We'll need to slip past this bastard and get you to safety."

"And then?"

"We'll cross the bridge once we've made our way out of here, okay? I'll get you someplace safe until this mess can be sorted out." 

Rey bit one bee-stung lip, eyes anxious and wary. She wanted to agree but didn't trust him completely. Ben could see that on her face. Still, she hesitated, meeting his gaze squarely, as if taking his measure. Ben wondered how much, if any, Rey knew about the past. Had Finn ever mentioned him to her? 

"The son of a bitch has been tenacious up until now, I'm sure, but he's never dealt with me. I'm not going to let him come within a hundred yards of you, Rey." 

She hesitated an instant longer, then sent him a shaky nod. "You're the professional, here. We'll deal with what's next once we're away from me." 

What would next involve her naked and cuffed and open to the complete pleasure that he was impatient to give her. Repressing a smile, he affixed his gaze to the puffed out pout of her lower lip. Something about her even in her awful getup, made the man in him take notice. Or was it the knowledge that she belonged to Finn?

No, it was more. Under that ugly hat, scarf, and coat, he could tell Rey was one damn pretty woman---somehow innocent and fresh, but also sexy, sassy, expressive. 

Corrupting her would be a treat. His sole desire chugged up another notch. Who knew that revenge would be so satisfying in every single way? 

******

Surrounded by music pulsing so loudly that the walls literally shook, Rey made her way up the club's narrow stairs, following Phasma, the blonde who apparently owned Sexy Sirens. Rey had no idea how anyone with decent vision would ever mistake her for a stripper, no matter how much makeup she slathered on. 

Phasma had an ingrained sexuality that just about every woman wished for....and so very few possessed. Still, Rey knew that she had to try, put on her best act until she could escape downtown New York and the psycho who was hunting her.

The only alternative was death. Like it or not, that made Master B---whose real name was apparently Ben and a relative stranger---her only hope for salvation. 

With a few glances and fewer words, Ben had made it clear he was no saint. Even now, she felt his gaze burn her back. Against her will, she peered over her shoulder. Ben stared up with an intent gaze, eyes looking nearly black, as he watched her ascend the stairs. A speculative smile ceased the chiseled features of his strong-jawed face. She knew absolutely nothing about the man, except that had the kind of looks that made women do double takes and drool.

Oh, and that he liked to dominate in bed. Hard to forget that. But his smile made her extremely nervous. Why would anyone look happy in the aftermath of a shooting?

Finally, she and Phasma reached the top of the landing. The blonde led her through the door at the end of the hall, into a small but surprisingly luxurious suite. Phasma shut the door behind them, locking out the loudest of the music's heartbeat throb.

The floor beneath them still shook. The sexy tempo resonated around her, stark in it's suggestion. Rey looked around the room.

A large, rumpled bed lazed in the center, as a standing lamp cast muted golden light over the white sheets. Hardwood floors gleamed cherry beneath her feet. Soft beige walls accented flowing white cheers at the large window. Four black-and-white landscape photographs formed a grouping above the bed.

"You were expecting a red bedroom with a stripper pole on the middle?" Phasma asked with a cocked brow.

Embarrassment stung Rey. She had wondered.... "I had no idea what to expect, honestly. This is quite lovely."

Some of the starch bled out of Phasma. "It's peaceful. C'mon, let's get you out of that ugly thing."

Before she could ask for privacy and a bathrobe, Phasma was unbuttoning Rey's coat and prying it off her shoulders. With a casual toss to the bed, the coat flew away. Like the mom of a toddler, Phasma reached next for Rey's purse and subdued floral-print T-shirt.

Before she could sputter a protest, the stripper had them over her head and tossed them on the floor. "If you'll just point me to a bathroom, I can undress---"

Phasma ignored her and plucked at the front clasp of her lacy white bra. With a drag and tug, it was gone.....and Rey stood nude from the waist up before a total stranger. Phasma studied Rey's breasts, lifting one in her hand to test it's weight.

"I think we can work with these." 

Rey tensed, resisting the urge to cover herself like a self-conscious seventh grader in a locker room. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"You don't have anything that I haven't seen already, honey. 34B." Another glance over the rest of her body, and Phasma added, "You wear a size six, right?"

"How did you know that?" 

She smiled. "It's my business. Strip out of everything else and hang tight." 

Phasma disappeared out the door, shutting it gently behind her. Rey stared after her. Strip out of everything else? Like it was easy. Like she took her clothes off every day in front of people she'd never met before. 

Well, Phasma probably did, so it probably didn't faze her in the very least. And Rey realized that if she wanted to get out of here without a bullet lodged in the head, she'd better get over her modesty pretty quickly. With a sigh, she took off her jeans and white cotton panties, folding them neatly and setting them on the edge of the bed. She looked around for a robe or spare blanket.

A towel---anything to cover herself. Nothing. Rey was not accustomed to prancing around with a stitch on. Clearly, that didn't trouble someone like Phasma.

The blond returned with a black satin bra and matching thong. With her teeth, she ripped the tags off, slipped a pair of gel inserts into the bra, and handed it all over to Rey. Before Rey could ask for privacy for the second time, Phasma disappeared again, this time into the suit's adjoining bathroom.

Grateful for the reprieve from the woman's keen gaze, Rey wriggled into the thong. Not comfortable---who wanted a thing string up her ass?---but a perfect fit, too. 

Phasma emerged from the bathroom , carrying some very brief garments and her black high-heeled boots. In the doorway, the blonde paused, waiting. Rey pretended not to notice her. Instead, she frowned at the gel inserts in the bra. The grown-up version of wadded-up tissues?

When Rey winced, Phasma laughed. "You got to do what you got to do. They're like an instant boob job. With clothes on, no one will know the difference."

Releasing the breath she'd been holding, Rey realized that was likely truly. She had no business bemoaning the fact she wasn't a D cup. Rey began to don the bra, acutely aware of Phasma watching her every move. It was damn uncomfortable. She'd killed to have Phasma's easy attitude about nudity, but she just hadn't been raised that way.

She had been nearly nineteen before she'd worked up the nerve to masturbate. After all, with a born-again mother who'd sent her to an all-girls school, she'd heard little about sex before turning eighteen. 

Until she'd gone off to college, Rey hadn't really know the difference between her cuticles and her clit. 

Pushing away the thought, Rey fastened the bra and lifted her breasts into cups---what there was of them. The bra was slung low on wire-thin straps. A slash of black lace barely covered each of her nipples. The gel inserts pushed the top swells of breasts up and out on display. Instant cleavage. 

Phasma whistled and shot her a saucy look. "I'll give you a piece of advice: Don't show Ben your tits unless you want to drive him insane with lust."

The blonde turned away, heading back into the bathroom. Rey stared at the woman's slender back and silky blonde strands clinging to her shoulders. Centerfolds were less attractive than Phasma.

Though probably over thirty, she was still very striking. Rey knew for a fact, based on Amylin's extensive research, that Ben wasn't gay. Give those facts, it seemed logical that he and Phasma were....involved. From the woman's offhanded comment, it sounded like Phasma didn't care if she enticed Ben. 

Lord, she'd left Los Angeles, where she'd always thought of life as being somewhat surreal, and landed in Cajun country, a place she began to suspect was the South's version of Oz.

"Trust me, I don't plan to show Ben my breasts," she said, adjusting the bra, wishing for just a little more cover. "Or anything, for that matter."

"Maybe not, but ten bucks says he plants to see them."

Rey frowned. "Based on what? I was interviewing Ben for a show. And then, when the shooting started, he offered to protect me--"

"And trust me, he will. He's the best at what he does. But Benjamin Solo is breast man, and you've got a great rack."

As if she'd just announced something as mundane as night falling, Phasma turned and lifted a makeup case off the counter. Setting the case aside, she studied Rey's face with nothing more than a mild case of impatience. 

"That doesn't bother you?" Rey couldn't resist asking.

Her gaze strayed to the bedding, looking too rumpled to be caused by mere sleep. Rey wondered if Ben had been here before meeting her--and why the thought suddenly bothered her so much.

"What? That Ben might fuck you," She shrugged. "Why should it? He's not mine."

Rey frowned. _This is just too weird._ "Nothing's going to happen between us. I have no intention of getting involved with Ben." 

"Trust me, doll, the road to hell is paved with good intentions," Phasma shot back with a throaty laugh. Before Rey could wade through her confusion and reply, the blonde switched topics again. "So, let's get your makeup on."

A moment later, she began cosmetics frenzy. A thick foundation coated Rey's face. Concealer came next, and Rey hoped it would cover the worst of the damage wrought from missing so much sleep. Next came the bright rosy blush, the sired-red lipstick painted on thickly with a brush. Dark eyeliner and eye shadow were applied in a quick blur.

Black mascara followed, lifting and separating her lashes. An eyebrow pencil and brown mascara hid the fact that her brows were not the same pale brown as the other woman's. 

When Phasma stepped away and prodded her into the bathroom before the mirror, Rey only recognized her hazel eyes and the basic oval of her face. "You look great! Hell, most everyone out there will probably be too drunk to notice whether you're me or not. But just in case they're not, the clothes I've picked out will ensure no man's gaze gets above your tits."

Rey wanted so bad to protest---the words lay on her tip of her tongue. She stilled then. If dressing like a stripper kept her alive, well....she could survive embarrassment much better than a bullet to the head. 

"Whatever works," Rey breathed.

"Okay, let's get this hair pinned up and the wig on."

"I can manage," Rey lifted her fingers to her head and rubbed.

"Wigs can be such a bitch. Sorry, you'll have to wear one, but to pass for me, you have to look blonde." Rey shrugged. The discomfort was small price to pay in order for her to stay safe. "And make sure it's on good. Ben will want to inspect you before you leave. He won't let you set foot outside until he's convinced you can pass the test. He takes protecting clients seriously."

The idea of Ben inspecting her made her stomach jump. Ben was gorgeous, and the fact that he was a dominant man only intrigued Rey more, despite her wariness and fears.

Securing the long blonde wig in place, Rey pushed the thought away. She was just tired. Lord knew she was stressed to the max. She would not be having sex with Ben, so his sexual preferences made absolutely no difference to her. Someone pounded on the door. Rey startled, her heart racing. 

Had the shooter managed to follow her up here? She cut her gaze to the window, hoping it might prove to be an escape route. 

The door opened, Rey entered, wearing a ratty T-shirt and faded black jeans, a backward baseball cap, and a false moustache. Those few external changes made him look considerably different. But she still couldn't miss his pissed-off facial expression. 

"Damn it, what are you two doing in here, having a fucking slumber party?"

"Bite me, Ben. I worked as fast as I could since I need to get back to business," Phasma said with a smile, then kissed his cheek. "And good luck to you," she threw back at Rey. 

Then she exited, leaving Rey alone with Ben at last. This was undoubtedly the one thing Rey had wanted desperately to avoid---now, she knew there was no sure way she could escape his gaze. 


	4. Chapter 4

His gaze immediately flew across the room and latched onto her. Black eyes scorched her, and a slow, sinful smile spread across his mouth. That look made her stomach clench. Quickly realizing she wore nothing but a revealing bra and thong, she glanced around for something---anything---to cover herself. 

She darted across the room and reached for the white satin sheet draped over the bed. Ben ripped it out of her hand.

"No time for modesty, Rey," he whispered in her ear.

His body buffeted her backside, legs glancing hers, chest brushing her shoulders. The heat he gave off warmed skin she hadn't realized was chilled. Despite the heat, goose-bumps multiplied their way across her skin and a shiver ran down her spine. Her nipples made a sudden, unwelcomed appearance.

She swallowed hard. He might be one of the good guys, but at the moment, his posture was pure predator.

"I don't need you in here while I get dressed."

"Yeah, too bad for you I plan to supervise. We aren't leaving here until I'm convinced that you can pass for Phasma."

"I've been putting on my own clothes since I was three. I think I can manage this part alone."

"True, but I use Phasma as cover for cases. We walk around pretending we're drunk on hurricanes and sex. People are used to seeing me touch her. Often. But you...." He snaked a hand around her and laid a palm firmly on her belly.

She jerked and gasped when his broad hand blanketed her bare midriff, his heat seeping underneath her skin, insidious, unstoppable.

"You," he murmured in her ear, "jump when I touch you. You do that in public, and people will automatically know that you're not Phasma."

With every word, Ben made her more aware that he was male---all male--and she was female. He had the kind of personal power that drew her in. Her stomach flipped when he spoke. Her breasts swelled. She felt jumpy, unsettled, when he stood too close.

Rey swallowed tension so thick she thought it might just choke her and tried to easy away from him. Ben didn't bulge--or let her go. 

Gnashing her teeth, she said, "Surely, there must be another way out of here besides you pawing at me."

"I wouldn't take that bet. You want to make it out in one piece, without your stalker recognizing you through your disguise, you've got to act right. We've got to look as real as possible."

The hand on her stomach starting inching slowly north. Rey's brain buzzed with the intimation of his words. He would touch her out in public, where complete strangers would see. Instantly, her breasts swelled again. Moisture gathered between her legs. _This was near next to impossible._

She wasn't into public displays. And Ben's caveman tendencies shouldn't be arousing her. Having such fantasies was one thing. But living them....that was completely different.

Stupid to indulge, especially with a complete and utter stranger as he still was---mind you. She didn't know him, he didn't know her. Ben interrupted her thoughts by cradling her breast between his thumb and fingers---and continuing to inch up. Until Rey slapped her hand around his wrist to stop him from going any further.

"I don't believe you. You don't need to touch me that intimately to get me the hell out of here."

He stopped the progress of his hand. "Less than an hour with me and suddenly you're the security expert?"

"This isn't a game. It's my life!"

"Exactly," he growled into her ear. "Locals, not necessarily the trust-worthy ones, will be out there tonight, seeing me with a woman the think is Phasma. If you're seen gasping and fighting and pushing every time I put a hand on you, they'll know you're an imposter. And if the man chasing you offers the money for information about a suspicious female....you'll be an easy target to spot."

 _And as easy one to kill._ Ben didn't say it, but he clearly thought it. Just as Rey did. 

"Could I just leave here as a bag lady or a nun or something?" 

"Your gun-toting friend is going to be waiting , watching for your next move. Don't you think the emergence of a nun from a strip club would send up just a few red flags."

He was right, damn it. She had to get a grip on herself. If dressing like a stripper and letting a good-looking guy fondle her for just a few minutes was all it took to keep her safe, she'd survive the embarrassment and the blow to her modesty. There was just one problem.

She reacted to Ben not like a decoy but like a real woman. Her body heated for him with a few whispered words and a quick glance. Still, the embarrassment she felt for responding to him was short-lived, particularly compared to uncertain death. When this fiasco was over and she could find a new place to hide, she'd never have to see Ben Solo again or care that he knew he could arouse her.

Taking a deep breath, she let go of his wrist. "Smart girl," he praised. 

Rey sensed him, his watchful gaze over her shoulder as he turned his wrist until her entire breast rested in his palm. She swallowed hard. God, her flesh felt heavy in his hot hand. He

He hovered there, breathing scorching the back of her neck. Tension ramped up in her stomach....and lower, tightening with an ache she wanted to deny---and couldn't. Her nipples hardened impossibly under his hot gaze.

Rey squeezed her eyes shut. Then he swiped a thumb over the taut tip. Electric pleasure shimmed down her spine. Unable to resist, she arched, pushing her breast into his hand.

"Good girl," he muttered in her ear, then grazed the sensitive curve of her neck with his lips. 

Arousal tightened again, pulsing hard and low. Her heart pounded away like a hoard of hammering carpenters. She squeezed her tights together. His left hand quickly joined the right, taking possession of her other breast in a hot swarm of fingers. 

She didn't jump, but fought the need to squirm, as pleasured battered her senses with the double assault. It took biting her lip to hold in her groan. Why did her body react this way to a man she didn't know and who practiced a sexual life she didn't wish to participate in? It ceased to matter when he punched the hard pinpoints of her nipples between his fingers, rolling them slowly with erotic patience. 

Need spiked in her belly, arrowing straight down between her legs. "Ben..." she protested.

"Shh, You're doing just fine, Rey. As long as you don't act like I'm unfamiliar, we'll be all right." 

All right? If he did that again, she'd be melting. Thankfully, he didn't. Instead, his right hand left her breast to glide down her stomach, lower, lower, until his fingers edged underneath the damp black lace of her thong and unerringly found her swelling, hungry clit.

She gasped and tightened her thighs against him. God, he'd feel how wet he made her. This was ridiculous. He wasn't going to touch her there in public.

"Don't do that," he warned, withdrawing his hand. "A tensing body and outraged gasps will give you away, Rey. Just relax."

"This isn't necessary," she argued, her voice strained. 

He snorted a cynical sound. "Spoken like a girl who's never run from a killer before. He followed us here. Did you forget that part?"

"No, and I'm not a girl."

"Then stop sounding like one. It's going to take a damn convincing act to get out of here in one piece. I'm trying to save your life here, not steal whatever virtue you might have." 

"Wouldn't this kind of behavior simply draw attention?"

"New York isn't the only place that celebrates Mardi Gras, you know? The sun is going down now, and the party is about to start. Being too good would make us stand out in the crowd." 

He was probably right. She had trust him. She had no reason not to, since he'd kept her alive so far. "Sorry." 

Behind her, she felt him nod. "Spread your legs."

Oh, God. Why? What did he have planned? Rey froze in indecision. If one finger brushing her clit sent shock waves through her body, what might a whole hand do? Would he laugh if she orgasmed? As it was, she felt closer than she would have thought possible....

"If I need to tie you down to get you accustomed to my touch, don't think I don't." 

At his warning, a fresh wave of moisture gushed from her, coating her already swollen flesh. Oh, how utterly mortifying. If Ben realized she'd responded to that threat....she shivered. 

With a surprising force, Ben wedged a booted between her bare feet and pried them apart. "Put your hands on the wall above your head."

"What?" 

Rey struggled to close her legs, only to find Ben's hard thigh between them. Lord, would he feel her juice's leaking through the thong and onto his jeans? Think her weak or easy?

"This is the last time I'm going to tell you," he swore. "Put your hands on the wall or things will get a lot more serious."

More serious? What was left, besides having sex? Her whole body jumped in anticipation at that very thought.

"You're not listening to me....so, I guess you want to be tied down, Rey."

"No," she snapped and put her hands on the wall high above her head.

But she wasn't quite sure she hadn't lied. The idea of bondage sounded primitive and tacky on the surface. Something only people who couldn't respond to "normal" sex did. But in a handful of minutes, Ben had forced her to face her own dark fantasy. 

"That's much better, but you've got to stop questioning what I say. I tell you to do something, you do it. This isn't a negotiation." 

That grated against her independent nature....even as if it made the knot in her belly clench tighter. "You're so arrogant."

"And that isn't going to change just because you pointed it out. You better start following directions, little girl, or there be will be consequences."

Rey wanted to rail at him, deny that his power appealed to her. It would only start a fight they didn't have time to finish. If she wanted to get out of here with her pride intact, she needed to convince him she was ready to leave and fool her stalker. And she also needed to convince the people they'd see that she was completely familiar and comfortable with Ben touching her. 

"Look, you got what you wanted. My hands are against the wall. I know you're going to grope me in public. I'll keep any surprise or discomfort to myself. Can we just end this now?"

"You're not ready."

"I'll be fine." 

"Oh really? So, if I do this...."

His hand slid back inside her thong, fingers circling her clit before dropping down to her slick opening. He pushed two fingers deep inside her. His left hand traveled down to her stomach, then covered her clit. Unable to help it, she gasped.

"See, you're not ready," he said and began massaging her clit, while the fingers embedded insider her toyed with her until they encountered a bundle of nerves Rey hadn't known she possessed. 

He rubbed there unmercifully, slow, insistent strokes ripping a scream of tingles deep inside of her. Orgasm raced toward her, like a car speeding through traffic lights to the edge of a cliff. Her channel clenched in weeping hunger around his fingers, her body begging for release.

His teeth nipped at her neck again. Then he pressed himself against her backside, grinding an unmistakably large erection into the left of her ass.

At least she wasn't the only one who was affected, she thought as her head lolled back onto his shoulder, perspiration breaking out all over her body as his fingers continued to fill her, toy with her clit. Her chest heaved with every breath. This was insane, Madness! The edge of pleasure was killing her. When had she ever been so arouse so quickly? The feelings built, until she felt pleasure fill her up, nearly to the exploding point.

Then he withdrew his touch, easing his hands out of the thong and onto her hips. "No cumming, not unless I say so." Before she could stop it, a whimper escaped from her throat. Ben kissed her neck again, a brush of lips, a sting of teeth. "You'll thank me later."

Rey couldn't imagine why he thought so. Her body was so tightly snug. He'd aroused her so thoroughly, she was tense, her mind racing.

If he touched her in public, she'd probably climax so viciously, she'd black out. His hands grazed up her abdomen again, to her breasts. He fondled then, rolled her aching nipples between his fingertips once more. 

She arched into his hand, grinding her ass against the impressive erection behind her, biting down on her lop to hold in a stiff, low groan.

He stepped away with a laugh. "Nice try, Rey."

"Ben..." She didn't want to beg him. Really. But was she supposed to keep her wits around the bad guys when her body ached to be touched so badly?

"Are you going to question me again?"

The tone of his voice told her that would be a very bad idea. But leaving her wanting like this was no better. Still, a glance over her shoulder at his suddenly forbidding face immediately stilled the plea on her tongue.

"No."

"And if I---" he reached down into her thong once more and rubbed her clit with his finger---"did this...."

Pleasure shot through her again, fresh and just as ferocious as the last. She whimpered and thrust her hips into his touch. So, so close....

Again, he withdrew. "Excellent. Now you don't jerk away when I touch you."

"You're literally going to leave me like this?"

"Why? Are you inviting me to do something about it later?" His low voice rumbled like gravel in her ear.

Ben liked to tie women down and own then, body, mind and soul. The very thought screamed through her mind. What the hell had she done? Let him get away with anything, everything.....

"Not a chance in hell, Solo." She stiffened, trying to draw away from him.

"That's too bad. I tend to like little girls like you, all starch on the outside, all creamy on the inside. The thought of hearing you scream your throat raw while I fuck you _really_ turns me on, Rey."

Oh, God, her too. "You're the subject of an interview. That's all."

"Tell me then, do you get that wet for everyone you talk to?" he mocked.

"Go to hell, Solo."

With a slight chuckle, he swatted her bare ass with his wide palm. "Go on, get dressed." 

Rey started to whirl on him, take him down for revving her up, but then the sting in her ass turned to pure fire. Instead, she found herself biting her lip to hold another groan inside. _Just get your clothes on and get out of here. That will make all of this go away._

Stomping past Ben, Rey shimmed into an indecently tight purple leather skirt. Next she put on a matching leather bustier that emphasized her small waist and shoved her cleavage so high, it was practically a shelf. 

All the while, she felt Ben's gaze boring into her back and she ache of the lust he'd created sizzling in her body. Finally, she wriggled her feet into a pair of black thing-heeled boots with pointed toes. Shockingly, they were actually somewhat comfortable. 

"Let's go and get this over with," she spat.

He eyed her. "You ready for what happens when we walk out this door?"

"We'd be arrested if we did more than what we already have in public, so it appears I've lived through your worst."

He led her out the door with a sensual smirk. "You think so, sweetheart?"

**********

Ben made his way down to the stairs, holding Rey's hand. He barely refrained from using the other to adjust the length of his hard cock in his jeans. Damn, the woman about made him all but bust a zipper. After their episode in Phasma's bedroom, he knew several undeniable things about Rey Johnson: One, she had a body that called to him. 

The way she looked, felt, smelled---all of it reached him on a primitive level and urged him to chip away at her until she surrendered completely. Two, she'd be unbelievable to fuck.

High breasts with sensitive nipples, a beautiful mouth, and an unexpected independent streak that hold him she would be both a trial and a triumph to the man who could tame her. Three, she had a wide submissive streak....and one she didn't want to admit it.

Her wet, nearly orgasmic reactions to his slightly--okay, way-over-the-top demands that she become accustomed to his touch were very telling. 

Every time he'd threatened with bondage, she'd gushed with fresh moisture. He'd needed a surprising amount of self-control to withhold her orgasm and keep from plunging himself deep inside her cunt while she had it. 

He knew a few other things about Rey: She didn't panic or surrender in the face danger. She was scared, sure. Only an idiot wouldn't feel at least a twinge of fear knowing that a stalker who followed her across the country to end her life stood right outside the door. But Rey had listened to his logic, pushed back when she disagreed with offered advice and resisted his initial offers of assistance. 

Those facts told him a lot about her---and how to deal with her. Patience, persistence, a combination of tenderness and alpha demands. 

Lastly, if Rey was Finn Ross's fiancé, she'd be wasted on the boring, uptight bastard. Finn would ignore the needs she didn't understand and couldn't fulfill, fantasies Ben would be his eyeteeth she had.

Satisfying her fantasies required someone with more balls, tenderness, and self-control than Finn ever thought of possessing. He almost felt sorry for Rey. In fact, he might be doing her a civil favor in the long run....But pity wasn't going to stop him from getting his overdue revenge against the asshole who'd fucked up his life. 

But, first, though, he had to get Rey out of the club alive. As they hit the door at the back of the dark strip joint, he dragged her through a curtain that lead to a backstage area.

Abruptly, the pounding music stopped and wild clapping began. A slender brunette with large artificial breasts wriggled her hips at the crowd of men shoving bills in her miniscule G-string. Rey stared, clearly uncomfortable with that much nudity and touching with complete strangers. _Good._

Despite the fact that he'd been to dozens of places like this, he wanted willingly and eager only for him, not a whole room full of stiff chicks. 

Looking away from the dancer, Ben scanned the crowd. He knew the mood of the clientele, the feel of revelers seeking hedonistic fun. Across the smoky room, a guy in jeans a black sweater looked around, rather than at the stripper exiting the stage and giving the audience a prime view of her ass. A few feet from him, another man in a suit lurked in the corner, wearing a watchful scowl.

He didn't fit in. The bulge inside his jacket hinted to Ben that the guy night have shoulder holster full of weapon. 

Either of these dues---or neither---could be Rey's would-be shooter. But Ben knew that they couldn't afford to take any chances. As nonchalantly as possible, he turned Rey to face him and covered their sudden stop in the crowd by pulling her against him and planting a series of kisses on her neck. She immediately tensed up.

"Rey," he called.

Others near them would hear an endearment. Rey's nod told him she took it as the warning he intended. She forced the tension from her shoulders.

"I see a couple of men who look suspicious in the club," he whispered on the soft, soft skin of her neck. "Anyone look familiar to you?" 

She hesitated, and Ben took advantage of her distraction and breathed in her sweet strawberry scent, brushed his lips against her soft-as-sin skin. "I can't think with you doing that, Ben," she whispered harshly.

He dropped a man down her spine, over the curve of her ass, more because he wanted to than because it was necessary. But it helped with the image that they were lovers who couldn't keep their hands to themselves. 

"You can. You will." 

Rey breathed out a four-letter word, and Ben smiled. If her curse hadn't gold him that he was getting to her, the pulse picking up speed at the base of her neck would. The scheming part of him loved knowing how much he affected her. So did his sexual side. 

Oh, he didn't forget that the shooter was probably somewhere near, but the asshole was too smart to shoot with so many able to see his face. And the sick jerk had no reason to believe that Rey wasn't Phasma.

"I can't see. It's smoky, and I'm too short."

True on both accounts. _Damn it!_ Curving both arms around her body, Ben anchored Rey against his chest. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder, reminding him how small she really was.

With her personality, her size was easy to forget. Given her story, she'd been through a whole lot lately. He couldn't help but admire her grit to go on, her strength to fight. 

"Let's get out of here, just in case one of them is your gun-happy nightmare." 

Rey nodded, but he felt her trembling. Ben eased back to look at her face. Under her thick makeup, her hazel eyes clearly reflected the knowledge that she was being hunted. But equal parts fear and determined tightened her lush mouth. She wasn't giving up. Neither was he. 

"Listen to me, I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you, Rey, I promise," he assured her. "Just take hold of my hand. Now smile. Good enough. Now, follow me out the door."


	5. Chapter 5

Slowly, Ben wended his way through the crowd, working the far side of the room as much as possible. He stopped to answer a greeting, endure some backslapping from frat boys he'd helped out of a scrape once, all of whom assumed fucking Phasma would be every man's version of paradise.

The suspicious characters cast glances over them as they neared the door. The dude with the suit kept his gaze glued to Rey. Ben covertly watch the man asses her, eyes narrow with speculation.

Running would only alert the asshole if he was Rey's stalker. Instead, Ben whirled Rey around and grabbed her. Her eyes went wide as he held her face between his palms and slanted his mouth over her own. Right away, her softness assaulted him. After a gasp of protest, Ben sensed Rey forcing herself to relax. To submit. 

At the press of his lips, she opened to him, slowly, slowly, with shy hesitance that made him burn with need. 

A delicious uncertainty flavored her kiss, making him hard as a pike. But it wasn't enough---either to convince the assassin chasing her or to assuage the hunger that churned like a violent storm in his gut. He couldn't wait for more. A growl interrupted from his throat as he dove into the kiss and urged her soft lips to part even wider. 

He entered her mouth ravaging thrust of his tongue. And groaned as her wet, sugary heat and hot cinnamon-spice flavor exploded across his senses. Tangled with the taste of her fear. Rey began to kiss him tentatively. Unfurling to him, softening. Soon, she uttered a soft moan and matched his rhythm, her tongue seeking his when he retreated. She clasped his shoulders and clung, slanting her head until their mouths fit perfectly.

Gripping her tightly, he sank deeper into her. The flavor of fear on her tongue receded. She trembled--but now her reaction didn't have a damn thing to do with the fight. 

Rey gasped....then surrendered, opening completely. Crushing his delight at her lush response, Ben promised himself there would be plenty of time to fuck her, screw Finn out of a bride, and enjoy every moment of her soft, shy responses. Later. 

Ending the kiss with a nip of his teeth on her plush lower lip, Ben opened his eyes in time to see the slick in the suit talking to some of the regulars around him.

Ben made absolutely sure he blocked Rey from the view guys who hung out there at least once a week. He hoped like hell none of them would remember that they'd never seen him kiss Phasma like that. Mr. Suit listened, then nodded his thanks. Disappointment shadowed his face. The guy in the jeans and sweater had disappeared. 

"I think we're good to go," he murmured to Rey. "Let's get out of here."

Again, he took her hand. He led her right out the front door. The crowd on the street swallowed them up quickly, and Ben smiled.

Once the danger had passed, once he knew they hadn't been followed, he could concentrate solely on Rey--and every delicious way he could think of to make her surrender to him. 

Within minutes, Ben led her to his car, parked on a dark side street. Rey hesitated. Finn wouldn't be happy that she'd left his car behind, but what were her other options? She couldn't argue with Ben's logic that her stalker would be looking for it on the roads since he'd followed her here.

With that settled, Ben tucked her into the passenger's seat of his sleek black Lexus. She'd have to be blind not to see his gaze lingering on the length of her exposed thigh and cleavage offered up by Phasma's purple leather slut garb.

The miles of skin it exposed made her want to find the nearest tent and throw it on quickly. Another part of her, though, heated at his intense look.

The arrow of need that shot straight to her still-aching clit encouraged her to inch up her skirt a bit more and flash Ben a come-hither glance. She resisted the dangerous temptation. The familiar dark desire, coupled with the stress and uncertainty, crashed in on her. How had her life gone downhill so quickly? How had she found herself at the mercy of a stranger who made her ache with a longing that shamed her?

"Don't leer at me," she snapped.

Ben looked away in his own good time. "And why the hell not? You look so fucking good."

"No. I look like a whore."

Faster than lightning, he leaned across the cab and crowded her personal space. He smelled like midnight and elemental male. Like danger. "You look available and willing. You don't look for sale."

"It's the same thing."

"No, it's not."

Ben said nothing more for long moments. He eased away and started the car, then pulled away from the tree-lined street and took off into the dusk. Then they headed southeast, toward the heart of the city.

With another hot glance at her, Ben finally explained. "When a woman looks for sale, a man checks his wallet before looking twice. Available and willing just makes a man hot. Available and willing for him alone makes a man boil with need. Right now, I'm hard as hell."

The night began closing around them finally, dark and absolute. Rey swallowed. The way Ben looked at her through the inky closeness of the car's gave her pause. And if she was being honest, made her wet. Did he realize that she'd never dressed this provocatively for any man, for any reason, before?

"And if you were my woman," he went on, his voice a sandpaper whisper, "you'd appear elegant in public. But in private..." He smiled, a flash of white teeth illuminated by the moonlight drifting into a smile that promised satisfaction. "In private, I'd dress you in less than you're wearing now. Much less. Without those useless lace panties you're wearing."

Rey could barely catch her next breath. She didn't want to dress like this. It had to look cheap and easy. Yet she could no deny it also made her feel aware of her body, of her feminine power.

Sexy and wanted and desired. How was that possible. "You're awfully direct about things, aren't you?"

"I'm just honest," he admitted. "Besides, what's the point of lying?"

"Oh, I don't know. To be polite." Ben simply snorted. "And these panties aren't useless. They cover the essentials."

"Exactly. Why would I want those covered up?"

She gaped. "I'm not about to flash everyone in the first good breeze that comes along."

"You see, that's the thing, Rey. If you were mine, what's under that skirt would be mine, not yours, to show or conceal as I see fit." 

His words burned her with complete utter shock---and terrible, unmistakable desire. She gasped. 

"Shocked? That's what submission is all about. Surrendering control utterly to someone else. Your privacy, your body, your pleasure instantly becomes mine and mine alone."

He said nothing for long minutes, and Rey lost herself in imagining. Would a dominant man really insist that his partner show any---or all---of her body to anyone of his sole choosing? Anywhere? At any given time? She squirmed in her seat at the thought.

It was disturbing and exploitative. But some little part of her found his words reluctantly provocative. Forbidden. God, she'd gone completely insane.

But curiosity followed close behind. That, she allowed free rein. She was interviewing him about this very subject, after all. Journalistic integrity and all that. "What you're saying....it sounds selfish and mean-spirited, to expose someone without regard to their feelings." 

"It might look that way on the surface."

"What do you mean, on the surface?"

"Like I told you online, one of the jobs of a good dominant is to see inside the soul of his submissive and grant her every pleasure she desires. Many submissive aren't aware of their most secret desires." He turned to face her, his chocolate eyes piercing, direct. "Or find them shameful, so they refuse to admit to them." 

He was talking to her. _About her._ With a hot glance, he made that clear. Her breathing allowed, her heartbeat accelerated. She couldn't ignore the fact that her stomach---and her nipples---went achy and tight. 

"And you force a woman to engage in acts that you believe she secretly desires, even though she may not want to acknowledge them?"

"She has to accept them to find true satisfaction. My role is to help her." 

"So what's in it for you? I mean, you're always trying to read her mind and persuade her to do new, unusual things....?"

"New things that make her so hot, she's giving me total control and is begging me to fuck her however and wherever I want. I'm sure you see the obvious benefits." 

Yeah, that was kind of hard to miss that point. Was it possible to be so aroused that she would beg in such a way? A mental picture of Ben tying her down, feeling her up, as she writhed under his hands exploded across her brain. A blast of heat sizzled deep in her belly...and lower.

God knew his aggressive touch earlier today had flooded her with arousal so fast, she'd nearly been dizzy with it. And his kiss obliterated most thoughts of fear and hesitation, the crowd, and her stalker. 

She didn't doubt he could make a woman beg for anything, everything. If she wasn't careful, didn't keep her distance, she could quickly become another notch on his bedpost. Worse, he could open her psyche and expose all the hidden fantasies better left to the dark corners of her mind. Time for a change of subject.

"Thank you for getting me out of there. I would have panicked and run when the bullets started flying. On my own, I would never have been able to concoct this disguise and....distract him." 

"That's my job, Rey."

"But you didn't have to do it." Then, recalling the way his hands roamed her body in Phasma's bedroom, she shot him a suspicious look. "In fact, I think you did more than your job required." 

"Think whatever you want." Ben's smile told Rey that her assertion amused him. 

"I usually do." She gritted her teeth, wishing she knew how to wipe that smile off of his face. "So, where are we going?"

"I've got a place. It's safe, trust me. We can hide you there until we figure something out."

The thought of being anywhere with Ben, even for just a few days, rattled her. "Maybe I should rent a car an drive back to the city. I've already imposed---"

"He'll catch on quick and just keep following you, Rey. This guys isn't stupid. Psycho, but not stupid. You want to be safe or dead? Besides, it'll be a good opportunity for you to learn about Dominance and submission. I can ensure you'll sound like an expert on your show."

"I think I get the picture."

"Rey, you haven't even scratched the surface."

"I don't need you touching me anymore." 

His smile could have melted butter. "You may not think you need it, but I now better. You need it every bit as much as you want it."

Rey's jaw dropped. "You are one arrogant bastard, you know that?"

"You're submissive, and I'm arrogant. See how well we're getting to know each other already?"

His quip put her temper in a twist. "I am not---that's it! Take me back... _now!_ "

He sent her an amused glance. "Back to your friend's car, the one your stalker probably has his pretty rifle trained on as we speak?" 

She bit her lip. Damn it. Why did he have to be right about quite literally....everything? 

"Or maybe I should drop you off at the police station," he taunted. "They're always so much help in stalker cases, you know." Clenching her fists, Rey said nothing, again knowing he spoke the truth. "Or maybe you could hope a plane back to L.A. How long do you think it would be before he stopped shooting pictures and tried to shoot you between the eyes again? You got a death wish or something?"

"No." Her voice vibrated with the anger she felt coursing through her body. "You got an off button for your mouth?"

Ben just smiled. "You're too smart to want to face a killer more than your sexuality. Rey, I'll ask you the same question I asked before your stalker started shooting. What are you most afraid of?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you....again."

He shrugged, as if he didn't care about her response one way or the other. "Fine. It's your life. Am I taking you back to the city or are you going to stay safe with me?" 

God, she wanted to shock the bastard. Spit in his face and verbally cut off his balls by demanding that he take her back to Finn's car so she could zoom back to New York, far away from his challenging words and his wicked, _wicked_ touch. 

But once again, damn it, he was right. Putting herself back in the path of a killer because Ben pushed a few of her sexual buttons was flat stupid. She had no safe place to go, and despite Finn's suggestion, she was _not_ calling Senator Ross. He wouldn't lift a finger to help her. 

"Fine, I'll go with you," she said through clenched teeth. 

"Good girl. We've got a few hours to travel, and it's getting late. Try getting some sleep."

Rey wasn't sure that she could. Being that vulnerable around a man like Ben, especially while she still had a stalker in her tail. "I'm fine."

"It wasn't a suggestion. We're not being followed. No one is on the road for miles." He gestured to the open road and trees around them, complete devoid of headlights. "You're safe, and you're going to need your strength later, in case we haven't lost your stalker for good."

She sighed, then shot him a reluctant glance. Again, he was right. Rey crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her body toward the passenger window.

But soon the rhythmic motion of the car lulled her. She closed her eyes and drifted off. Two hours later, Ben stopped the Lexus at the water's edge, in front of the boat waiting right where he'd left it. After he scrambled aboard with a groggy Rey, they cruised the river for a while, Ben driving his way down the Hudson with Rey drifting in and out of sleep shivering in the February night air.

He did hos best to shelter her from the wind with his body. She unconsciously snuggled into him when he wrapped one arm around her. That gave him a hard-on so stiff that it hurt.

***********

They reached their destination shortly before ten o'clock. Ben lifted a slumbering Rey into his arms, settled her in his grasp, and headed for the dark cottage. He'd expected to have to talk fast back in the city, to hustle and sweet talk her into a hotel room to get his revenge.

Having her here, though, in his domain, was better---and worse. Her stalker had helped him maneuver Rey right where he wanted her and never dreamed he'd have her. He would have Rey all to himself, on his turf, where he could devote hours to her seduction and his revenge. Sweet, yes. But Ben couldn't pretend her sick stalker didn't concern him. At least here, with him, he could protect her from the psycho who'd clearly decided that if he couldn't have Rey, then no one could. 

He would keep her safe, he owed her that much. Particularly since it was clear that Rey could no longer fend for herself and was exhausted beyond her endurance. 

But on a basic physical level, she trusted him. That trust shimmered through his body, both hardening his cock and softening his gut. Why fight it? He liked her, even if he hated her fiancé's gut. She was by turns feisty and vulnerable, sharp and gullible.

And for some strange reason so damned familiar, as if he'd seen her somewhere before....

Shifting Rey in his grasp, Ben shoved the key in the lock, then thrust open the door. Inside the little Craftsman cottage, clean lines and pine floors reminded him of his boyhood, of fishing with his grandpa, Anakin. This place never failed to inspire great memories, even if the old family legends his grandfather told him made him laugh.

"Ah, so you made it."

Ben started---until he recognized the voice. "Holy shit, old man. You trying to scare me to death so that you can have your old fishing hole back?"

Anakin waved him away. "You wish. I wouldn't have this place back for nothing. It's a rat trap."

Ben knew better, but Anakin was too old to live out here, so far away from a hospital. "The place is stocked with food. The security cameras, there all on and the generator is on. Use it sparingly."

"Thanks. I knew that I could count on you. I _always_ can unlike the rest of my family it seems these days."

"This the girl you called about, the one running for her life?" Anakin gestured to Rey, whom Ben still held close to his body. 

"Yeah."

With narrowed eyes, Anakin peered closer and stared at Rey. "You sure he's not just out to bed her? She's one beautiful star, but damn, Ben, she dresses like a whore, that one."

"It's a disguise, grandpa. And she's _not_ a whore, you fucking old fart." 

Anakin frowned his gray head, disapproval still shadowing his strong features. Smiling to himself, Ben stepped around his grandfather and headed for the cottage's lone bedroom. He set Rey down on the bed, then bent down to remove her black boots.

If his grandfather weren't watching he'd pull off the rest of her clothes for the mere pleasure of looking at her....but Anakin would both disapprove and get an eyeful that could very easily damage his heart at eighty-two.

"You still been having those dreams of yours, haven't you?" his grandfather asked suddenly. "I can see it in your eyes."

Ben rolled his eyes, ruling the day that he'd ever said anything about it. "They don't mean anything, grandfather."

"Boy, you have been raised in the traditional Skywalker way, even if the army and big city spoiled you some. A curse is still a damn curse. We can't outrun it, even if he wanted to. It's just apart of who we are---our family. If you're dreaming about a brunette woman over and over again, you're about to meet her and she's your heart's mate."

 _Oh, boy, here we go again with this bullshit,_ Ben thought with a low sigh. If Anakin wanted to use the legend of their family to justify his marrying an older girl sixty years ago, then good for him. As it was, Ben just absolutely refused to believe that some faceless woman he'd seen in his dreams with dark hair glinting across bare shoulders in dawn's light was destined to be his one and only one. 

There was no such thing as love at first sight, no predestined, all-powerful magical Force that brought two random strangers together under the most unexpected circumstances. The brunette was just a fantasy fuck his mind had conjured up to mess with his head. 

"Well, I haven't met any brunette's lately, so the whole point is moot. Dreams don't mean a damn thing."

"You just keep telling yourself that, boy. She'll turn up. Won't be long now. Didn't you say you'd been having those dreams for about five months now?"

"Six, actually, but who was counting anyway?" Ben shrugged.

"She'll make a believer out of you yet." Anakin contended.

"Whatever you say, grandfather."

"You'll finish what I started, I can see it all now." 

The old man grunted, knowing that Ben was blowing off the famous Skywalker family legend he loved so much. The dreams....they had to be coincidence, a by-product of loneliness and the fact that he hadn't had a good lay in forever. Nothing else made sense.

"Well, this old man is taking his old body home and going to bed. Need anything else, boy?"

"No. We'll be fine."

"Take care of her, Ben."

Ben sighed. "She's not _my_ pretty girl, grandfather." 

And for some damn reason, it annoyed him to admit that. Probably because she was wasted on an asshole like Finn Ross. Laughter cackling with both amusement and age, Anakin left. Ben heard the slam of the cottage door and returned to the bedroom. 

He turned to the kerosene lamp in the bedroom, which emitted a soft glow over Rey. She looked uncomfortable. He watched her twist and mutter something in her sleep. 

He removed a pair of gaudy earrings he hadn't noticed before and lay them on the bedside table. The purple leather....it wasn't Rey's style but would have to stay for now. Trying to take it off would surely wake he up.

Shrugging, he realized he could only do one other thing to make her comfortable. Gently, Ben reached under the sleek blonde wig and extracted a pin here and there. She sighed in sleepy appreciation when he lifted the wig away and tossed it on the table next to the earrings. 

When Ben looked back, he frowned and lifted the lamp over Rey. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. But with mellow golden light shining down on her, there was no mistaking the glint of her hair brown hair. 

"Oh, fuck," he breathed, unable to wrap his brain around this.

Maybe the old man had spoken some truth just now when it came to these dreams that he had been having. Maybe, just maybe the girl who he had been seeing was now lying in this bed. 


	6. Chapter 6

Rey woke to an unfamiliar room pervaded by shadows. Mosquito netting draped the warm, well-used bed. Beyond that, an old-fashioned kerosene lamp on a nightstand with mission-style lines dimly lit the room. Where the hell was she? Blinking, she sat up with a creak.

She frowned when she saw purple leather stretched across her torso and hips. Purple leather? Her? It wasn't uncomfortable....but had to be discomforting to be seen in.

Why the hell was she wearing it? Then she recalled. Her stalker shooting. Master B--no, Ben---to the rescue, his gaze eating up her flushed skin, his hands on her body. Still, she had to thank Phasma for the shocking getup. It, along with Ben and his outrageous behavior, had gotten her out of Manhattan alive.

A downy beige comforter warmed her legs. Black sheers floated at the room's lone window, made transparent by the silvery moonlight. A stout dresser of warm, old Cherrywood sprawled against most of the wall beside the window. Turning her head, Rey skimmed the other half of the small bedroom. The door open left to beautiful hardwood floors, which gleamed in the dark, empty hallway. 

And in chair wedged between the door an an armoire sat, Ben shirtless and tousled, alert--and focused solely on her. "Good morning, Rey."

Morning? His stare touched her through the moonlit inkiness of the room, caressing her cheek, sweeping over her mouth, gliding down her neck to the rise of her breasts above the leather bustier. 

With just a glance, heat bloomed inside her. Even eight feet away, the potency of his sexuality broadcasted in blaring waves. Everything they had done in Phasma's bedroom came back to her in a rush....along with a tight, nagging ache between her legs. 

She remembered everything---the way he'd touched her, his kiss, the way he took complete control. His mysterious scent, his growled words---they'd intrigued her. Even after a few hours of sleep, nothing had changed. Curiosity and desire gnawed at her as Ben stared, knowledge hot in his chocolate eyes. The ache knotting her body tightened.

She couldn't afford that, couldn't afford him. Rey looked away, breaking their visual connection at last. How he felt, how she felt---none of it mattered.

She had to focus on staying safe and doing research for her show. Drooling over the heavy slabs of muscle covering Ben's shoulders and chest that screamed _virile_ and contemplating all the ways he could use that power to pleasure her wasn't going to improve her show---or her chances of staying alive.

"How are you? Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said finally. "What time is it?"

He shrugged and glanced out the window. "About five in the morning. You can go back to sleep if you want, I'll be here to watch over you."

Rey just stared right back. The knowledge that Ben's eyes were on her was really going to inside her to roll over and sink back into dreamland. _As if._ She could hardly breathe as it is with Ben's gaze all over her.

Sleep would be nearly impossible. What was it about this man? Sure, he was yummy, but she'd dated good-looking guys before. Something about the way he stared?

The truth finally hit her like a slap to the face. No, it was his intensity, his self-possession, his air of controlled power. She'd always been a sucker for men with power. And unlike the other men in her past, Rey knew Ben was the real deal.

He wielded one of the ultimate powers, a sexual one. He wouldn't just tie a woman down; he would dictate her response and his, be in complete control of her body, her orgasms, and in that moment, her very soul. The thought of it all appealed to Rey far more than was wise. 

Easing toward the edge of the bed to put some distance between them, she said. "No, I'm awake now. Do you want the bed to catch up on some sleep? I can get up."

"Stay."

The single syllable ricocheted through her body. It was a command, pure and simple. Every place it bounced around inside her, the heat intensified, confusing her a great deal. She didn't like being bossed around---by anyone.

But Ben barking orders at her made her uncomfortably achy in all the wrong places. Hell, maybe she was just horny in general, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with Ben. After all, it had been nearly a year since she'd split up with Poe. 

"I've been sleeping in the chair off and on," he clarified.

"That can't be comfortable."

He laughed. "Rey, spend a few months over in Afghanistan with the army. This chair seems like the fucking Ritz." Rey nodded, conceding the point. "If you're awake, I want to ask you some questions. You need coffee first?"

She shuddered. "I don't drink the vile brew. It's too bitter."

A flash of white teeth told Rey that he smiled. "I wouldn't say that too loud around here. We're known for our famous coffee. Not drinking that is sacrilege." 

"I'm likely to burn in hell for some other things in my life, starting with painting my cousin's G.I Joe's fingernails pink when I was five years-old. I'll just add that to my list."

Ben laughed, a scratchy sandpaper sound. "Wow, that is vile. Satan's got a special place reserved in hell just for you."

Rey nodded. Then the room turned quiet. The momentary banter drifted away, leaving a tense silence in its place. Still, she felt Ben's gaze on her, lingering on her hair. Self-consciously, she pushed the strands off her shoulder, behind her back.

"You took off the wig...I....it's brown," she stammered. "My hair, I mean."

He hesitated. "I didn't expect that."

His stare changed then, turned pensive. Rey frowned. What had he expected? Why did the color even matter? Maybe he only liked blondes. Maybe...but his stare said otherwise.

"And I see you took off the boots."

"They looked uncomfortable."

The idea of Ben touching her as she slept unaware raised the heat coiling in her body another notch. Had he touched anything more intimate than her head or feet while she had slept? That question ratcheted up her body heat again, now laser focused between her legs. Rey squirmed, seeking relief. She didn't find it.

"So what do you want to ask me?" she said. Conversation, yes. Much safer than just sitting in the dark staring at one another.

Ben's slouched posture instantly gave way to a taut awareness. He slowly leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his knees. "How about we start with anyone you can think of who might want to stalk and kill you?"

 _Boom._ So direct. Rey wasn't really all that surprised, though. That really was the heart of the matter, after all, and she suspected Ben Solo would be a pretty bottom-line kind of man. Hearing that question head-on proved that he was a strictly all about business. She wished he would be like that about other things---like this position to have her bound and gagged against her will. 

Why couldn't he understand that wasn't her thing. It never had been or ever would be, despite her growing dark fantasies.

"Honestly, I can't think of anyone. I've had weird fan mail in the past, but not this weird."

"It seems to me as if this guy knows you pretty well, where you live, where your friends and family live, where you might run to." Ben's eyes narrowed. "Tell me about your past relationships."

"What do you mean?"

"Your previous lovers," Ben's raspy voice demanded as intriguing shadows played across the hard angles of his face and torso. 

She could stare at the man for hours and never be bored. Hot and bothered, yes, but never ever bored. Damn it, she needed to keep her mind on her safety, her show, not her protector himself. 

She shook her head. "Well, the last one left me, not the other way around, so I doubt he'd suddenly demanded that I belonged to only him."

"Before him?" he barked.

Rey felt a flush creep up her neck. "I was involved with a pro football player a little while ago, but when this started happening, he would have been on the road, so he couldn't be taking pictures and leaving them for me to find. I dated an ambassador briefly. He's currently abroad. So it's not him....either. I hooked up with a guy in college who's now married with a daughter."

"Who else?"

"Who else what?"

The line of his jaw hardened. "Who else have you let fuck you?"

The intensity of his voice---and the words themselves---suggested that he asked for reasons that weren't strictly professional. "You're getting awfully personal, not to mention crude."

"I'm just getting a full list of suspects and cutting to the chase, Rey. Answer me."

His no-nonsense tone had returned, and she found it oddly difficult to argue with him. "No one else. Actually, I didn't even sleep with Ambassador Hux."

"So three past lovers?" Ben asked, curiosity ripe in his voice. "No more?"

She supposed that having only three by the ripe age of twenty-three made her an anomaly. But she wasn't going to give him all the details about her sex life just to appease his curiosity. The point of this exchange might be to build a list of suspects, but the low-voiced probing in his tone had a sexual edge that shouted _warning._

And he wouldn't stop staring. With every clinging gaze, he lashed Rey with his memories of his kiss, his touch, the way he took control. Her body kept warming like an oven on pre-heat. 

"Why does it even matter?" Rey shot back, aware she was dodging the question. "Aren't the more important facts that this monster knows my habits, my friends, family and places that I'm likely to go?"

He shrugged. "Rey, there isn't a man alive who isn't willing to kill to get a woman he's truly desperate for. But if she's running from him, thwarting both him and his maddening lust...that man get a heck if a lot more ruthless." 

With a shiver, Rey considered Ben's implication that, that description could apply to more than just her stalker. Did he include himself in that group?

Somehow, she didn't picture Ben needing a lot of excuses to get ruthless, but she also didn't picture a lot of women turning him down. 

"He's especially dangerous if he's already had a taste of what he's missing. I need to know all the possibilities so I can check them out, run them down. Then we'll get to your other questions. Now, you've had just those three lovers?"

"Yes."

"I need names, vital statistics, ages, and last know addresses to start my digging."

"This is so embarrassing."

"No, this is critical. Start talking." 

Rey sighed, squirmed in her place, and looked down at her hands folded in her lap. "Well, Nodin Chavdri is....about six-one, maybe. Light brown hair, blue eyes. I think he's twenty-eight by now. Last I heard, he's living with his wife and kid in San Diego."

"And he was the first?"

She nodded. "When I was junior in college, yes."

"And when did you see him last?"

"About two years ago, just after he graduated. We only dated six months or so. It wasn't all that serious."

"But you gave him your virginity?"

"I already said that."

"Why?"

"I'm not answering that, Ben. That goes beyond name and vital statistics here."

"I need to establish motivation, Rey. Maybe he still thinks of you as his little virgin and doesn't like the thought that you've shared the pretty pussy he considers his with other men."

Rey held in a gasp. She wasn't used to hearing those words, not with a born-again mother. She'd never dated a man like Ben, who used them so unapologetically. Her mother would have fainted dead way....even faster than she had after seeing the first installment of _A 1,000 Ways To Turn Me On._

"Not likely. When we split up, he encouraged me to date his roommate, who was a major horn-dog. Trust me, he was as over me as I was over him." 

Ben shrugged, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Number two?" 

"Norik Evans."

"You mean the Norik Evans drafted by the Raiders a few years ago?"

"The very same. If you want his vital stats, just look them up on ESPN.com."

Jaw tight, Ben asked. "How'd you two meet?"

"At a press party. He was doing a reality show about athletes during the off-season for the same parent company that airs _A 1,000 Ways To Turn Me On._ I doubt he's stalking me. We...it was just a one night stand."

Ben scowled, looking decidedly unhappy about that. "Why did you let him fuck you?"

"Do you have to put it that way?"

"That's what happened, right? I mean, what else am I supposed to think? Why did you let him? Did you have feelings for him?"

Norik was built like the side of a mountain and had been the supposed leader if his football team. He'd been quiet and seemingly in control. That illusion had drawn her in, along with his good looks. A night had been all she needed to see how insecure and out of control he'd been.

"That's really none of your business, Ben."

Ben stood, approached the bed, towered over her. Rey looked up, past the ridged abs and rippling shoulders that screamed all alpha-male power. Having him this near....it wasn't good for her mental health. He was part aphrodisiac, part beast. And she responded way more than she had wanted to. 

"If you want my help, I need to know your past. It's no uncommon for a previous lover to turn stalker, since he knows where you live, who you're close to, and may even know some of your friends and can get his information through them. You being modest and treating me like an auditory voyeur is only giving him more time to hunt you down. Do you have a death wish?"

"If I did, I would have just sat there in that café plaza and let him use me as target practice," Rey grated out. "Do you think he followed us here? Did you see anyone follow us on the road?"

"No, I don't think he followed us. We're dead in the middle of nowhere, so he'll be hard-pressed to find us. But it's not impossible. You can't afford to underestimate someone like this."

Ben was right. Rey's stomach quivered with that harsh truth. "I know."

"Good, then cooperate with me. You holding back is tempting me to put you over my knee and spank your ass."

Rey gaped. "You're not touching my ass!"

"Don't challenge me, Rey. I'll make those pretty cheeks fire-hot in about three minutes if you keep on."

A flame of desire burst to life between Rey's legs. _Bad, bad, bad. Stop now!_ She closed her eyes, blocking out the sensation, the longing. The rampant curiosity and the ache. 

"You're a really pushy bastard, you know that?"

"I'm a dominant man who's reached the end of my patience with your little girl games. Now, have you spoken to Evans since that night?"

Her temper fired up a notch. "A few times. He sent me flowers the week after I spent the night with him. He called every few weeks, whenever he was back in town. I just wasn't interested in him anymore. He finally got the picture and stopped calling." 

"Nothing since?"

She shook her head. He let the subject of Evans drop. "I'm still not ruling him out. And bachelor number three?"

"Poe Dameron. He's about your height. Salt-and-pepper hair, black eyes. He just turned thirty-five. He was the producer of the show for _A 1,000 Ways To Turn Me On_ last year. We started dating shortly after the....incident with Evans. Within a month, he asked me to marry him."

"And you said...." Ben inched forward, crowding her personal space.

"Yes. He was good-looking, cultured, connected, seemed intelligent enough and funny. Why not?"

He tensed--mouth, shoulders, abs. "So when did it end?"

"About ten months ago." 

"Because...."

Because Poe's male ego had been frustrated by her difficult climaxing in the bedroom. He'd seemed so worldly, like a beacon of inner calm in a stormy life, she'd been sure he would be the man to unlock that something inside her that would set her body and heart free. He'd tried often....succeeded rarely.

Finally, he coaxed her into revealing her deepest desires, the ones that involved being bound and dominated.

Thinking that it would help them, she'd bared her soul and even revealed her most secret fantasy; being taken by two men at once. Not that she'd really do any of the things that spun in the deep recesses if her mind. They were just fantasies.....A fact completely lost on Poe.

He'd called her depraved--and some other less flattering things that seared pain through her gut and fostered a shame that boiled her temper every time she thought about him.

She'd thrown his ring back at him. He'd taken it and quit the show. They hadn't spoken to each other since. And not for anything would she shared a whisper of that to Ben.

"It just wasn't working out between us," she hedged.

"But why, though?"

"We....just didn't get along as well as we had originally thought."

"You're holding out on me," he growled, grabbing a firm hold on her wrist.

Rey jerked away from the electric heat of his touch. "That's all you're going to get. He left me, and I was more than happy to him gone, out of my life. As I've said, I doubt very much that he suddenly wants me back."

"Until you tell me the truth, I can't comment." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's all the truth you need."

Ben's thundercloud of an expression told Rey he disagreed. "Time will tell." He took a step back. "Who's your "friend" in New York?" 

Knowing she hadn't heard the last of Ben's questions about her broken engagement with Poe, Rey took a bracing breath and answered, "His name is Finn Ross." 

Ben's jaw tightened. "Is he more than just a friend?"

She hesitated. No one knew she and Finn were actually related. Keeping the secret had been part of her mother's settlement with Senator Ross years ago. He would come after her with both barrels if she let the truth out.

So she and Finn had concocted the engagement hoax when she started staying with him. Maybe.....maybe if she used it here, it would ease the temperature down between her and Ben.

"Yes. He's my fiancé. My....current fiancé." 

Ben's mouth pressed into a grim line. "And where is he now?"

"Out of the country on business for a few weeks."

"While some crazed killer psycho us taking shots at your head. Sounds like a great guys to me." 

"He didn't want to go," she defended. "His job---"

"Has anything else happened besides you receiving these pictures. Did anyone break into your house?"

"Yes, and...." Rey swallowed, then whispered. "He masturbated on my bed. That's when I got scared and left L.A."

Sudden tears scalded her eyes, her cheeks, surprising her. She'd thought she was more together than that. Tears weren't going to help this situation at all. But the reality of it all was hitting her hard. Ben sat down beside her in a heartbeat, all hint of anger gone. Gently, he eased her back and leaned over her, brushing a gentle hand across her cheek, wiping her tears away.

Rey stared at the man, the contradiction. Tenderness and compassion from a man who'd forced the truth from her, threw her arousal at his touch in her face? A man who bound his woman?

"You did the right thing, leaving L.A. and agreeing to stay here. This guy is fixated and dangerous, no question about it."

Embarrassed by her tears and too conscious of Ben's closeness, Rey looked away. "I hate being afraid and having my life turned completely upside down. The sooner we get this over with, the better."

"Don't worry, we'll fix it," he murmured. "Who knew where you went after you left L.A?"

A furrow wrinkled her brow as she tried to recall. "Amylin, my production assistant. My neighbor, who's watching my cat, BB-8, who does my makeup for the show. I can't remember, I left in a blur..."

"Having someone uninvited jack off onto your bed would throw anyone for a bit of a loop."

Ben took hold of her hand, sandwiched it between his strong, calloused palms as he hovered over her in the shadowed moonlight. Holy cow, he was so good-looking, he hurt her eyes.

Strong jaw, chiseled mouth, two day's growth roughening what might have been an otherwise pretty face. Wide, muscled-capped shoulders topped off a hard, six-packed torso any woman would drool over.

Rey wanted to be unmoved by him, his aura of power, his touch. It just wasn't in the cards. His gaze roved over her, part reassuring, part hot remembrance. God, she couldn't forget either, his breath on her neck, his hands palming her breasts, his fingers buried inside her, nearly bringing her to orgasm. His mouth on hers.

Survival first, pleasure later. Much, much later. And with with Benjamin Solo. 

Yes, he wanted a self-possessed man, but this one....he was too much. Of everything that called to her, of everything she didn't need at this point in her life. She had no business thinking about him. Ben possessed lethal power, barely concealed by careful restraint.

The primal make animal lurked just under the surface of his skin, leashed by his control and air of authority---a thing of façade of civility. 

A woman didn't handle a man like Ben. He had all the subtlety of a steamroller, and if Rey gave him the slightest hint that his brand of domination interested her, she knew he'd roll over her fairly inexperienced body and leave her flat. No thanks. Now, if only her lust-saturated thoughts would catch on. He was a business contract and the man trying to protect her.

Her response to him needed to stop there. She was focused on expanding her career, not the need moisturizing her vagina. 

But she knew what Ben was and what he wanted from a woman. Curiosity could be almost as powerful as desire. And none of her admonishments could douse the arousal that seeped through her blood. 

Rey took a deep breath. Okay, so he could bring her pleasure. Surely lots of other guys could, without all the domination and bondage. Without the frightening sense that he could control a woman's body with little more than a stare, a stern word, and a naughty smile. True, Rey hadn't found such a man yet.

She sighed at her circular logic. Nothing mattered now except that Ben could keep her safe. She needed that so badly---assurances that she wasn't going to wind up dead in a ditch somewhere, that she could escape from the nightmare her life had become virtually overnight.

Ben squeezed her hand. "After dawn, I'll call a buddy of mine who has a lot of contacts inside the FBI and see if he can start a profile."

"Thank you."

She hoped Ben and his pal could get to the bottom of this soon, so she could get on with her life and on with her show. 

"Why don't you try to go back to sleep?"

Tension rose up like quicksand, threatening to drown her. "I'm done sleeping. Too worried. Too wired."

Ben leaned forward and fondled a lock of her hair between his dingers and frowned. He turned dark-chocolate eyes on her. The air between them turned so thick, Rey couldn't drag a lungful in. 

Heat radiated from him, warming her all the way to her bones. His scent hit her with the force of a battering ram---spice, sweat, swamp, and pure mystery. Damn it, she was so aware of him as a man....

"Just try. You've got to keep your strength up." He sent her a ghost of a smile. "You never know when you might need it."


	7. Chapter 7

Ben escaped the cottage into the emerging dawn, spitting a curse. Four lovers, two of them fiances, including Finn. Had the pansy-ass senator's own son ever told Rey about him? His guess was no. As far as his revenge plans went, that was extremely good news.

Rey had absolutely no idea who he really was. And he wanted to keep it that way. And through her entire confession, her hazel eyes had eaten him up with an intense hunger.

Damn, he'd never gotten so hard from just a woman's glance. He still wanted his pound of flesh, but revenge wasn't all that he wanted anymore. The shitty fact was, Rey aroused him unbearably. Being in the same room with her and not touching the pale silk or tasting the cinnamon spice of her kiss, the musky cream of her pussy, was making him hard enough to drill holes through pure steel.

He barely restrained his impatience at being denied the opportunity to cuff her to his bed and coax her into submission. Need gnawed at him, demanding that he clamp those pretty, pale nipples and toy with her clit until she begged for a hard ride.

She nearly pushed him past sanity. He was dying to see just how submissive she was, taste her strength as he shoved his cock so far inside her, she'd never forget him.

Damn it, he had to get control. Feeling more than the need for revenge was just plain stupid. So why was he? The question plagued him like an annoying song he couldn't get out of his head. He'd never been particularly hot for brunettes. Or short women. 

Or women already claimed by another man. So why her? Why Rey Johnson? His grandfather's matter-of-fact voice echoed in his head. _If you're dreaming about a brunette woman over and over again, you're about to meet her and she's your heart's mate._

He'd always thought the family "curse" was utterly bullshit, propagated by the colorful loons and romantics in his family who believe it because they had wanted to.

Now, it still didn't make any sense. He still didn't believe any of it. But he couldn't deny that he'd never responded to a woman this strongly. Muttering an even uglier curse than the last, he headed around the left side of the cabin and began walking the perimeter, the marshy soil soggy beneath his boots. He'd seduced Rey, no question about it. Not even a blind man could miss the curiosity and awakening in her soft hazel yet vibrant eyes. 

He was far from blind. But he also sensed something holding her back. Latent affection for Finn? Or a fear of being dominated, despite her curiosity and submissive nature? There was more to her past relationships than she was admitting particularly her breakup with her former producer. 

Her reason for denying her desire to submit didn't matter, not anymore.

He'd overcome it and have Rey bound and hungrily accepting his every demand, gasping as he sank his cock into her mouth, her pussy, her ass. Give her things straight-laced Finn Ross would never dream of.

Would that be enough to make her leave Finn in the end? Ben paused at the bedroom window and peered in. Empty. No Rey in the bed or anywhere in the room.

Damn it, she'd defied his good advice to rest. No doubt, she needed a strong man to heat up her ass to keep her in line. His palm twitched at the thought, but he shoved the tempting idea away. After the last thirty minutes--hell, the last few minutes of watching her sleep--his pike-hard cock was finally getting the clue that he wasn't getting lucky. He welcomed a rest from having most of the blood in his body nowhere near his brain. 

In fact, he needed to her some clothes. Preferably made of flannel and three sizes too big. If he watched her parade around in tight purple leather and stiletto boots for too long, he'd be too distracted by wanting to fuck her to protect her in case the worse should happened.

The fucking would happen, he reminded himself, but not yet. Not until he was sure she was safe and out of harm's way.

Not until he'd earned a bit more of her trust and figured out how to get under her skin. He'd need all that if he wanted to completely surrender to him. He walked on, putting his cell phone from his belt clip, and dialed Anakin. 

He'd get his grandfather to pick her up a few things. But after the sixth thing, he hung up with a low curse. 

The old codger was probably having coffee with the "boys" at the local diner, playing a round of Russian Roulette and solving all the ills of the world. Too bad he couldn't convince Anakin to buy an answering machine or a damn cell phone. He'd call back later....but that meant waiting to cover Rey's tempting form. This place had always represented peace to him. Not today, though. 

In the last few months since Anakin had given the cabin to him, he'd made some modifications and upgrades---really made it his. It was the closest thing to a home that he had.

He rarely brought anyone here. He meant to....but in the end, he hid this place from submissives and all but his closest friends. So why had he brought Rey here so readily? Not looking too hard for the answer, Ben peered at the video equipment well hidden by the trees and the eaves. Looked good, functional, as it scanned the area behind the cottage. Then he continued on, trudging around the corner of the little house.

Flickering golden light emanated from the little window in the middle of the wall. Rey was in the bathroom and had found the candles.

What she hadn't done was completely close the shutters. She'd tried, but the broken one wouldn't extend over the window. On quiet feet, Ben approached the small glass pane. He shouldn't look; he knew that.

But he didn't have a lot of scruples where she was concerned. Edging closer, Ben peered in, looking into the narrow bathroom. Steam rose from the claw-footed tub. Beside it, Rey ran a hand under the water steam. Apparently satisfied with the temperature, she set the plug in the tub, then backed away.

Her hands settled on the first button of Phasma's leather getup. At a push of her thumb, the button came loose. A second quickly followed in suit. The soft, rounded edges of her cleavage and a hint of the black bra and saluted the view. But the view only improved. 

A third button, centered around her navel, came lose from it's mooring. As the fourth and final button came undone, so did Ben's ability to breathe.

Rey peeled the garment off and laid it down on the counter. He glued his gaze to her slender too and high, round breasts as she reached behind her to unfasten the tight miniskirt. With an alluring wriggle, a sexy shimmy, she peeled the garment down the sweet curve of her hips and past firm thighs. When she stood again and set the skirt aside, the only thing stopping him from fully taking in the pale temptation of her body was a lacy bra that did nothing to hide her hard nipples, and teeny-thing thong. 

Damn, was it possible to have a fatal heart-attack at thirty-two? He should walk away now. Focus on surveillance until he knew she was safe. 

Stop fixating on a woman he planned to fuck once...just so Finn could appreciate the pain and rage a man felt when he knew his woman had surrendered willingly to another hard dick. But walking away from Rey was easier said than done. At this point, he couldn't even find the will to try.

Drawing in a shaky breath, he watched as she reached behind her to unclasp the bra. The movement thrust her breasts forward, accentuating their round, firm shape and those pretty nipples he thirsted to suck into this wading, hot mouth. 

A moment later, they came into view. Plump, soft, blushing pink and swollen, they beckoned like little bits of heaven topping the pale beauty of her breasts, which shimmered with dancing, golden candle light.

He grabbed a hold of the ledge outside the window and let out a ragged breath. How the hell was he going to keep from fucking her into oblivion in the next ten minutes or so?

Before he could answer that question, she slid the little black-laced thong off and tossed it away, revealing the last of her secrets to him. And boy, was it a doozie. The tiny patch of hair covering Rey's pussy was a soft light brown. Now Ben knew how a bull felt when someone waved something red in its face: enflamed, ready to charge at any given second. Toro! Toro!

He braced his hands against the side of the cabin to steady himself as Rey stepped into the tub and sank into the steaming water, eyes closed.

Damn, he had to stop spying on her like some loser sicko who couldn't persuade a woman to undress for him. And he would....as soon as she stopped splashing water over her shoulders, on her breasts. The water beaded up on her creamy skin, running in rivulets that dripped from succulent nipples. 

He'd love to lick her up with his tongue. The sun edged up over the horizon behind Ben, making it harder to see inside the little bathroom.

It was probably a sign that he should be noble and stop acting like Peeping Tom. Rey dragged a numb over one of her hard nipples, and her lips parted in a silent gasp.

Okay, no. Fuck nobility. He stepped closer to the window to improve his view. Her nipples responded to their wet state and the cool air, beading up even tighter, turning a shade darker. She lay against the back of the tub and sighed.

Then she lifted her hands from the water---to cup her breasts. A moment later, Rey stunned him when she dragged her thumbs across the rigid mountainous peaks above, deliberately and moaned. A fresh gallon of blood immediately ran south to engorge his cock even more. God, he was going to go fucking insane. He, who had never had a hint of mental illness in his family, would be creditable before Rey had finished her bath. 

Ben held his breath as she pinched her lush nipples, rolling them between her thumb and fingers, pulling at them harder than he would have imagined.

First one, then the other, finally together, she worked them with her small fingers. She threw her head back, neck arched, moist lips parted. She looked like a sensual goddess, like the ultimate fuck. 

In that moment, he would have charged into the house, plucked her damp, naked body from the water, and plunged his steel-hard cock right into her. But he wanted to know too damn bad just what she would do next. 

As her nipples darkened and swelled from her fondling, she sank deeper into the tub, until only the twin peaks of her breasts rose from the water, wet and tempting. She lifted her right leg and rested her heel on the rim of the tub, then bent her left knee and spread her legs wide apart.

Ben couldn't see Rey's pussy under the water, could only glimpse an occasional flash of brown hair. But his imagination filled in the gaps. Brown soft curls swollen pink flesh, slick and pouting with need and ready....just....for...him.

If she were his, he'd keep her just like that---naked and hot. Always wet and ready. He'd spend mornings lapping at her nipples. While she ate breakfast, he'd eat her. They'd shower with her pretty mouth around his cock, as she took him deep, all the way to the very back of her throat. And then he'd get really serious, push her to the limits of her body, her trust.

He'd leave no part of her untouched. There would be nothing he wouldn't do with her, to her, to hear her scream her throat raw in pleasure. 

Rey jolted him out of his reverie when she trailed her hand from her breast, down her abdomen, and between her legs. She began to stroke herself. _Oh, shit._...If he hadn't yet lost his mind, it was going to go up in flames for sure now---just like his body. 

He shifted his aching cock in his jeans and edged closer to the window until his face was nearly pressed against the glass. Eyes closed, Rey made lazy circles with the hand between her legs, while the other continued to pluck at her nipples, keeping them hard and ready. Soon, the slow circles of her fingers gained speed. Water sloshed in the tub, dousing the ends of her silky hair, which hung wildly about her shoulders. Her hips began to lift to meet her fingers.

Ben caught electrifying flashes of red, along with slick, spread flesh. Lust pooled in his belly, demanding relief, demanding her, as her chest rose and fell with quick, panting breaths.

Rey tightened the circle, moving faster than ever. Her lips, now a deep red, opened on a silent gasp. She squeezed her eyes tight closed.

Ben stepped even closer still to the window for an even better view, clutching the window ledge with a white-knuckled grip, his own rapid breathing creating circles of damp heat against the glass. Then her legs lifted, her back bowed.

She bit her lip to trap in a cry as her orgasm washed over her in a long rush of shuddering sensation. Rey rubbed her clit furiously, extending her pleasure, extending Ben's own personal hell. She kept panting, teasing, bucking against her hand, stretching for the next orgasm. Moments later, it came, crashing down on her like a tidal wave.

She cried out, no longer able to hold in the sound. But the desperate pleasure in her voice stabbed Ben with a fresh bolt of molten heat. God help her. God help him. God help them both.

There was no power strong enough on this earth to keep him out of her body right now. Fuck his plans. Fuck the consequences. He was going to fuck her. _Now._ As Rey rose to the pinnacle of her peak, arching and flushed, her eyes flew open. Her gaze connected with his. 

************

_Oh my God!_

Rey leapt from the tub, grabbed a towel with shaking hands, and wrapped it around her, covering as much of herself as she could. He'd seen her---and everything she'd done. She turned back to the window, eager to assure herself Ben had, had the common-human-decency to leave and give her privacy, now that she'd caught him being a voyeur.

But Ben still stood there, unblinking, shirtless, his massive chest rising and falling with harsh, tightly controlled breaths. Worse, he watched her with a hot, predatory gaze.

Completely sexual. Totally lacking in apology. His gaze told her that she aroused him. He wanted her. He meant to have her. Period. End of story. The ache between her thighs that she'd tried to quench pulsed back to life.

Rey squeezed her eyes shut, struggling against the morass of feelings swirling inside of her. Desire and fury galloped in her stomach. They reached neck in neck, mortification a close third. 

But at the finish line, fury had won out. Damn him! Ben might have saved her life, but that didn't entitle him to invade her privacy, to watch.....whatever she did by herself---and arouse himself while doing it. Arrogant. Rude! So typical-like of a man! The famous Johnson temper her mother had always talked about was rising and fast inside her, greedily lapping at propriety and calm. Shooting him a venomous glare through the window, Rey whirled and left the little bathroom, then stalked down the hall into the kitchen/living-room area.

She barreled toward the cabin's front door. Before she reached it, the door swung open. Ben stepped in, fierce and silent. 

And so taut she could probably bounce knives off him. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click that was nearly lost in the hard stamps of her wet feet across the gleaming hardwood floors.

"You son of a bitch!" she yelled, charging toward him until they stood a mere foot apart. "How dare you! Did you really think that I wouldn't notice or care?! Or maybe you just thought---"

"Enough." He didn't raise his voice to her, but it still lashed like the sting of a whip.

"Go to---"

"Rey," he warned, jaw clenching tightly.

She started, clutching her towel around her, her chest rising and falling with anger. His deep voice filled the room. A command burned in his eyes. _He_ was angry with _her?_ Unbelievable?

Before she could even tell him to pound sand, he said. "Look, I had no right to watch you, Rey. I went outside to check the perimeter security. You left the shutters partially open, and I couldn't look away. I'm sorry."

An apology? That was it? No arguing, no defending himself? Fury dissipated--much faster than she wanted it to. It was kind of hard to stay frothing furious at someone who'd offered an apology, damn it. 

Even harder to stay mad at a man who'd been transfixed because he liked the sight of her. But she was a Johnson and not nearly ready to give up the fight.

"You didn't have any right! I-I'm completely embarrassed!"

He edged closer to her. "Of what? Of your body? Of being a woman with simple needs?"

"Of being watched! I can't believe you just stood there and looked at me like I was the star of some sort of freebie sex show!"

"It's not good behavior for hosts, I agree. It's not a habit." His eyes sparked with truth--and a desire that wasn't going away. "Rey, admit something to me, though: Knowing that I watched you, that I couldn't look away, arouses you." 

"No, it doesn't!" She refused to give him the satisfaction, despite her awareness that moisture gushed between her legs at his words.

"Those sultry hazel eyes say yes, Rey."

"Do you need glasses? Did you really think that I would be okay with you turning my bath into a fucking peep fest? Did you think I'd say, "Sure, I know we just met yesterday, but feel free to spy on the most intimate moments of my life?!"

"I was only aware of how beautiful you looked." He leaned in. "If you were mine, you'd have no reason to self-pleasure yourself, Rey." He quirked a smile. "I mean, of course, I'd love to see you stroke yourself now and then for the pure viewing fun of it all."

Risking a glance down, she couldn't miss the outline of his rigid erection straining the front of his jeans. Rey felt a flush rise to her skin and that ache between her legs again. No! She needed her anger, all whipped into a nice, frothy fury. Instead, she came all too aware of how close he stood. Of the fact that he was half-dressed, while she was barely covered at all.

Dangerous territory, especially with Ben looking at her with a dark flame of want blazing in his eyes. Especially with her body warming in response. Rey distinctly retreated back a step.

"Stay there."

His quiet tone rang with command, vibrated straight through her. Rey hesitated, her mind racing. She didn't have to listen to him, didn't have to stand before him nearly naked and follow orders. In fact, it was probably much better if she didn't. Ben reached for her. 

"Bite me, Ben Solo. I'm not a two-year-old or a robot," she shot back and stepped away again. He distinctly reached for her again, completely ignoring her wishes. 

_Run!_ she ordered herself. Instead, he encircled her wrist with a gentle grip, but she felt its steel beneath. And of course, his scorching all-alpha male heat. _"Stay there."_

For some strange reason, something in his voice....She couldn't _not_ listen to him. Maybe that's because Ben embodied every sin she'd ever yearned to experience, ever masturbated to in her dark, lonely bed, only to to have frustration douse her satisfaction when she realized none of it was real. 

He released her slowly and began to pace around her with unhurried steps, brushing her shoulder with gentle fingertips as he stepped past. 

Her heartbeat accelerated. Goose bumps erupted across her arms. She didn't even want to think about what was happening to her nipples or how badly they ached.

He stopped directly behind her. Ben's hot breath tickled the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulders. His heat radiated along her back, and legs. Rey sucked in a breath. God, he was standing close. Too close to ignore. Too close to deny the effect that he had on her. 

The ache between her thighs zinged to new heights, as if she hadn't stroked her way to climax mere moments ago. 

She sent a cautious glance over her left shoulder. Ben stood right there, waiting, as if he'd known what she would do all along. Their gazes connected, his full of fire and demand. He hovered a mere breath away, tall and towering. He was going to touch her.

A zip of electric thrill raced through her, even as she called herself twenty-different kinds of stupid. She tore her gaze from his and stared at the front door again, clutching the towel around her body.

He said nothing, but Rey could feel his eyes on her, taking in her still-wet skin, her rapid, telling breaths. Now what? This had gone from an ass-chewing to an ass-viewing in about two minutes. If she didn't want him doing anything else with her ass, she had to get away from him now. 

"Tell me why you needed that orgasm, Rey," he murmured into her ear. "I need to know."

She couldn't tell him that. What? Was he crazy or something---yeah, most likely he was. But then again, it would only confirm what he must surely already know: That some deviant, out-of-control part of her wanted him, felt more than journalistic curiosity about all the things he could give to her. 

"I don't really think it's any of your goddamn business, Ben."

"Don't call me that, not when we're alone."

He wanted her to call him sir. Trembling, she stood still, her thoughts and hearts racing between uncertainty and forbidden thrill. She felt....claimed by Ben's words. His iron commands reached something inside her and called forth a barrage of need. _What would it be like to surrender to him? To give in to that voice?_

Dangerous. Bad. Giving into everything Ben represented and everything she shouldn't want. If she did, she'd only be forging a new path straight into Hell.

"How about jackass, then? That sounds appropriate for you." She dug up her bravado and turned around to face him. "Don't fucking bully me!"

She waited for his angry comeback, for a growled command of frustration. It didn't come. Instead, he shuffled a heartbeat closer, until a mere whisper separated her from the raging heat of his body.

"There is no reason to be embarrassed by your desires, Rey."

"I'm not. Called me repressed, but I am a little embarrassed about having an live audience during an orgasm," she snapped.

"That's not true and you know it," he said softly. 

Swallowing hard, Rey tried to tear her gaze from his knowing, sexual stare. His scent assailed her next, full of man and mystery, spicy as Cajun food and as hard to fathom as the swamp itself. 

She inched back. "Do you think you know me now or something?!"

"I know things about you, Rey. I know you're uneasy about your sexuality. You have desires that you don't like to admit to. I see them all in your eyes. A craving to be bound and dominated---"

"You don't see a damn thing! I'm not depraved."

"No, you're right. You're not. And anyone who thinks you are is a fucking idiot."

Ben reached for her again, determination all over the fierce masculine angles of his strong face. She didn't want to know exactly what he was determined to do next. Panic flared, and she batted his hand away and attempted leapt out of his reach. Failure at it's greatest. Her back immediately hit the door. 

Rey lunged to her left to evade him. He blocked her way with a strong arm, then anchored it on the door, sealing off that avenue of escape.

He used the same tactic on the right before she could make a move in that direction. Then Ben leaned in, his hands on the door, just next to her head. She couldn't look at him, or more like refused to. As if to get her attention, his body brushed hers, detonating ruthless sparks of desire that burned through her body.

That brief contact was enough to light her up like a firecracker. "Rey, look at me." He slowly leaned in to put a breath of air between them.

Something inside of her wanted to obey him. That smooth, rich voice, the hint of alpha-male combined with explicit command, tugged at her. The very thought of surrendering to him made her stomach clench with anxiety....and desire gnawed at her clit. 

The man was practically a giant walking contradiction. An aggressive protector. A man who bound women was going out of his way to keep her safe. 

It was all so confusing to be in her own thoughts, much-less hear all of his. _He_ was confusing her. Finally, she raised her stormy gaze to clash with his. "What the hell do you want from me, Ben?!"

"Honesty would be great here, Rey."

"No, you don't! You want me to give in to you, spread my legs like a spineless airhead and give you....whatever it is that you want!"

A half smile curled up the side of his mouth. "You're half right there, sweetheart. I do want you to give in to me, Rey. I want you to spread your legs when I tell you to. Not because you're spineless, oh no, but because you're not."

He then moved in closer, brushing his body against hers again, all hint of a smile now gone. That sent chills all up and down Rey's spine in the most delicious ways.

"I want you to burn so hot for me, Rey. I want all your fire and independence and ass underneath me. I want to show you what you secretly yearn for and try not to and to really be able to show you just how good it could really be between us." 

Rey swallowed, then open her mouth to speak. How was she supposed to reply to that? What did a woman say to the man trying to spoon-feed her every sexual fantasy she'd ever denied herself?

"I don't think--"

"You think too much, Rey. Just stop it. Just stop running away from it. Just stop. Stop worrying about all of the reasons why you shouldn't. Of all the reasons that I scare you. Try thinking of all the ways that I could please you instead."

Oh, she'd thought of those, that's for sure. No need to even ask her to ponder over that---she had since the second she had met him at the café square yesterday afternoon. 

One of his hands eased away from the door. He brushed the back of his fingers down her neck, over her collarbone...and kept delving down. He caressed down the terry-cloth slope of her breast, then brushed down over the erect nipple begging for his touch. Even through the towel, she felt that touch all the way down to her toes.

A hot tingle sizzled her insides like bacon in hot grease. She gasped, felt her gaze locked into place by his.


	8. Chapter 8

He repeated the process all over again, then once more. Pleasure assailed Rey from the aching points of her tight nipples, streaking through her tightly coiled body, straight to her vagina. She dropped her head back against the door, unable to hold in her moan. 

"There you go, that's it." Ben feathered his lips down her throat as he moved in closer. 

His other hand joined the first in the soft torment of her nipples, with only the thin towel in between them.

"I want to see those pretty nipples. I need to have them in my mouth, Rey. Drop the towel." 

Desire bubbled within her, at full boil, even as a last bit of sanity screamed somewhere in her head. The memory of his touch at the strip club and the jolting pleasure it suffused her with still haunted her. The lingering remembrances, coupled with his potent command, sent her self-control reeling. 

Of all the men she could desire, why him? Why Ben Solo? Of all the times--while being chased by some whacked-out stalker---why did she have to want him now? 

Gee, maybe it was because Ben was the embodiment of every midnight fantasy that had ever kept her wide awake. Maybe it was because he lowered his hand to the part in her towel that swirled his palm across her stomach, over the curve of her hip, then moved in to press an impressive erection against her. Certainly, he and all the testosterone...diverted her mind from the whacked-out stalker issues. 

Her mother had always said, _You make your choices in life and live with them._ Could she live with herself if she walked away from the forbidden allure of Ben Solo without just having one taste?

He curved his hand over the rise of her ass and began to stroke his way down---fingertips lightly toying with the crease between her cheeks. A new rush of tingles filled her.

Clever move, Solo, she acknowledged. If she arched into his touch, he had a handful of her ass in his grasp. If she arched away from it, she pushed herself right against his throbbing erection. How could he lose? It was practically a win-win situation for him and a humiliating loss for her. 

How could you? a little voice inside her head dared her. In the next moment, his fingers stroked the cleft between her cheeks again, this time a little harder, deeper. A dark thrill zoomed up her spine. Without thought, she gasped and arched right into his hand. 

"Good girl," he murmured into her ear, sending the shivers back down her spine. 

His thumb toyed with her nipple, now so hard she could feel every brush of skin, every callous. She moaned yet again.

"Rey, drop the towel." His breath came hard and fast, his voice strained but still in control. "Show me your pretty body."

"You've already quite enough of it, you Peeping Tom."

"Show me," he growled.

Oh, God. The command in his voice turned the ache between her legs into a throb. She wanted to obey...so bad. Sizzle coursed through her. Blood rushed everywhere, swelling her clit. 

Already wet from her orgasm, she felt moisture pooling in her most intimate recesses, threatening to overflow. Ben's spicy, earth scent was scattering all rational thought. The parts of her body aching for his touch were in control. _What's the worst thing that could happen if you gave into him?_ a voice inside her asked.

More disappointment and frustration. More rejection and ridicule. Then again, it took her at least a dozen pair of shoes to find the right fit. 

Were lovers the same way? Maybe three hadn't been enough. Confusion spun in her head. "Ben," she managed to murmur in between his wicked touches. "I talk to people about sex for a living. I don't need to have it do the show."

"Forget the show. You need what I can give you. Stop denying yourself."

"I'm not denying myself," _Stupid!_ Rey bit her lip, sure that her flushed cheeks and hard nipples made her words an obvious life.

He grabbed her jaw in one hand. "You lie to me like that again, and I'm going to spank you so hard that you won't be able to sit down for a week. Tell me why you're resisting what you want." 

"Don't touch me." She tried to jerk herself free from his grasp.

Ben held firm. "Rey, I'm going to do so much more than touch you. Way more. And the longer you hold out on answering me, the more I'm going to make you beg."

Oh, God. His words alone made Rey hot as she weighed them and the relentless demand in his eyes against her fears. He could do it; he could make her beg. And the thought raced a shiver down her spine.

"Fine. If you have to know, I'm not some femme fatale. I don't respond much to sex." 

Southern charm softened pushy arrogance with a mere curl of his inspiring lips. He placed hot kisses on her neck, nibbled at the curve of her shoulder. "You responded just fine to everything I threw your way back at the club."

Surprise. That's all it had been. She'd been too shocked to really react to anything else. To want, then to bow to that same pressure of self-doubt. Then clam up until, tense and frustrated, her body gave up. Besides, she might be curious about his...lifestyle, but participating committed her far more than simply wondering.

And she had a bad feeling that just one taste of Ben Solo would be as addicting as heroin to a junkie. "We don't really know each other."

Ben's fingertips cascaded over her shoulder, leaving nothing but anticipation and a fresh crop of good bumps in their wake. "I know enough of you to know how to make you scream. But that isn't what's stopping you. There's another reason."

He kissed her neck, her jawline, inched up toward her mouth. She melted underneath his touch. God, that felt good. And his smell...Did it contain some magic ingredient that was like kryptonite for her restraint? 

"Plus, we don't like each other much," she pointed out in a desperate gasp, evading his kiss--a kiss she wanted so badly, her gut clenched with desire.

Again, he smiled, a flash of white teeth visible in the room bathed with predawn light. "I'm liking you just fine right now, Rey. I liked your the first time we talked online. I like that you're smart and gutsy and sexy as hell."

He whispered the words against her mouth, and Rey felt her resolve draying around the edges. Back in the city, Ben had touched her breasts, stroked her clit, fondled deep inside her, yes. But his kiss lingered, haunted her. Like the smoothest wine, all wrapped in sin and soft velvet, with a kick of lust that promised only pleasure. His kiss gave her a preview of his truth strength and self-control.

Almost against her will, she leaned toward him. For a wild moment, Rey thought he would pull away. Tease her, enflame her with what might be.

Instead, he grasped the sides of her face and kept her gaze locked to his dark one. "The memory of you in my arms...it's been keeping me hard all fucking night long. Watching you sleep was pure torture. I just kept thinking about lying next to you on the bed, peeling your clothes away and devouring everything underneath. I want to get my hands on you, Rey. My mouth on you. Get inside you, drive deep and sure. I want you to scream out my name when you cum." 

Rey couldn't breathe. The impact of every single on of his words did more than rev up her libido; it struck her like body blows, every syllable battering her resolved with hot intent. 

He robbed her of air, of the will to resist. How would he feel? Taste? That terrible vise of clamped her clit with need. 

She almost whimpered with the need to cum again. And he'd barely touched her. What if she gave him free rein? What would it be like to let go and give herself to someone with his mastery, just this once?

She exhaled on a ragged sigh. Arousal flared like a forest fire under a harsh wind, burning her from the inside out. About to rage completely out of control. Moisture threatened to trickle down her legs. She licked her dry lips, but when his gaze followed the motion, it only made her temperature spike even hotter. 

"You going to put that pretty pink tongue on me, Rey? While I watched you sleep, I pictured you on your knees, my cock in your luscious little mouth."

Rey knew next to nothing about oral sex from personal experience. Reading and talking about it to prepare for her show didn't make up for the fact. At this moment, with a mountain of a man like Ben in front of her, pressed firm against herm that seemed irrelevant. 

Ben inspired an urge to sample everything wicked, including his cock. "Ah, I think you like the idea," he murmured, breath caressing her tingling lips. "Those hazel eyes are turning even darker. I wonder what else you like? I know that you enjoy this...."

As he'd done, before Ben stroked her nipples, now painfully hard, through her towel, with brushes of knuckles and fingertips. 

She gasped and couldn't stop herself from arching toward him and seeking an end to the erotic torment of his touch. "Sensitive nipples. I'll so enjoy sucking on them until I can feel them swell up on the tip of my tongue." 

Would he though? The suggestion made her faint with molten, hot pleasure.

"Don't presume anything, Solo. I didn't say yes," she pointed out, trying to hang onto the last bit of her sanity. 

But the croak in her voice made her protest a joke. No, no, no! Ben might be thrilling her beyond belief---beyond bearing---but tomorrow...how messed up would her head and her life be tomorrow if she gave in now? Wasn't having a killer-stalker bad enough? She'd agreed to meet him to facilitate an interview for _A 1,000 Ways To Turn Me On,_ not to find a dominant looking for a plaything. 

"Your body is saying it for you, Rey. Breath chugging, Jackhammer pulse pumping in your veins. Your nipples are as hard as fucking diamonds." Suddenly, he found the hold in her towel again, down near her abdomen, parted the halves of terry cloth, and planed his hot palm on her skin.

He was so warm, it startled her. Stung. She jumped....closer to him. Now their chests brushed. His mouth was only a whisper away from hers as he dragged that and over her hip, across her belly--then stared heading down.

"Are you going to say no, Rey?"

Rey hesitated. If she was smart, she'd scream "no" now. She'd jerk herself away from him, march back to that claw-footed tub of his, fill it up with cold water, and dive in headfirst.

But his fingertips whispered swirls and circles across her belly, over her thighs, brushing over her mound just enough to entice. She clenched her thighs together, but it only magnified the ache. Ir climbed up into her belly, spread down her thighs.

The fact that she wore nothing but a tiny green bath towel did not comfort her in the slightest. "Or are you going to say yes?" he whispered. "Are you going to let me fill you with my fingers and tongue? Are you going to let my cock ride you hard and deep?" 

God, more of his wicked words that gave her lascivious ideas---and irresistible pictures to go along with them. Rey threw her head back against the door and closed her eyes. She wanted to say yes, yearned as she never had for the foribbiden pleasure that she knew only Ben could give her. _Once. Just once,_ whispered a voice in her head. _What could it hurt?_

Soon, with any luck, this business with her stalker would be behind her, she'd be back in L.A, taping the next season of _A 1,000 Ways To Turn Me On._

Ben Solo would be nothing more than a hot memory she could drag out on a cold night when she needed her warm herself up. That fucking simple. "Ben...."

"You want something?" His voice taunted her as his fingers glided like a ghost over her abdomen, her hip. Those dancing dark eyes of his, that playful mouth teased her without mercy. She and her resistance were toast. 

In an answer to his question, she grabbed his hand and placed it right over her mound. He swiped a hot finger through the swollen folds and swirled around her clit once, twice. She gasped, assailed by an urge to spread her legs wider for him. 

"If you want something from me, Rey, drop the I want all of you, and I want you _fucking_ bare." 

Rey refused to stop and think, to reconsider again. Plenty of time for that later. Instead, she tugged at the towel. It fell to the floor with a quiet rush, leaving her covered in goosebumps---and nothing else. 

She shivered---but not from the cold. Ben looked his fill with hot eyes that promised mind-shattering pleasure. "I can't wait to get inside you, so deep that you'll never forget it was _me_ who was there."

His mouth immediately covered hers in a searing, blistering kiss. No, he did more than over her mouth. He devoured, consumed, possessed. Rey opened herself to him, accepting the hungry thrust of his tongue, which delivered the spice of his taste and the heat of his need in a devastating dance of pure seduction. Her knees weakened in seconds.

His passion had the kick of cayenne pepper, balanced with the sweetness of silky smooth honey, caged in control of steel. Unique. Intoxicating.

She moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the hungry sound. Ben's hands fell to her hips and grasped her, fitting her right against his jeans-clad hard erection. He gave her a nudge in the right spot, and her need spiked. 

The ache of her sex built. He pressed against her again, compelling Rey to lift her leg to wrap it around his waist, opening her body to him in a silent plea. He accepted immediately, taking her thigh and anchoring it over his hip, bringing him in perfect contact with her clit.

Rey grasped his bare, steely shoulders, hanging on while she felt dizzy with pure need. Had she ever been this aroused? No. 

Ever wanted so badly, she thought her blood would boil if he turned and walked away from her? No. It was pure torture. It was bliss. He continued to eat at her mouth, small nibbles of her lips, long swirls of his tongue against hers. Ben left no part of her mouth without his attention, his flavor. In desperation, she rubbed her breasts against the hot, hard wall of his chest, threw her arms around his neck, and pressed deeper into the kiss.

When he eased his lips away from hers, she clung to him in protest. He lifted his arms away from him and anchored them to the door with a warning stare.

Their gazes connected, his dark with broiling need, compelling her to accept whatever came next. Her body too ravenous, her mind too entangled in his spell, to refuse. The breath seesawing in and out of his chest was her only indication that he wasn't perfectly in control.

Pushing her flat against the door, Ben leaned in, his cock grinding against her clit again. But now he bent to add a totally new sensation to the mix: his mouth around her nipples. 

Rey arched to Ben, not just eager to give him more but aching to. He started with skillful suction, a teasing lick.

"Ben," she protested. "Ben."

"You know what to call me," he warned, thumbs and fingers pinching her sensitive nipples. "Until you cum, I don't want to hear my name fall from your lips again, Rey."

"Yes, sir," she chanted. Anything to get her nipples back in his mouth. 

He rewarded her with hot suction over the peaks of her breasts, first once, then the other. Back and forth. Over and over. Hot, swirling tongue, then tender bites that had her gasping and clawing. 

For the first time, she could actually feel the blood filling her nipples, swelling them. With a last lick, he pulled back to look at his handiwork. "Very pretty. I should keep them like this always, slightly tender, a rosy pink standing up and waiting for just one more touch."

He closed thumbs and fingers around them again in a pinch that made her catch her next breath. Then he twisted, just enough to make Rey cry out---as the moisture gushed between her thighs in a fresh rush. 

Lord, he'd never been so sensitive, never felt as if she might actually orgasm just from having her nipples toyed with. She'd read it was possible but never believed it. Until now. 

"Are you all slick and hot for me?" he asked, his hot breath teasing her neck.

"Yes," she gasped.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

Ben swiped a pair of fingers down the valley between her breasts, dragged them down her abdomen, her mound, then dove right into her wet heat. He grazed her clit, until she moaned against his mouth. 

"Touch me, Ben" she moaned.

"You don't give the orders here, Rey. You take whatever I give you. No matter how I give it to you."

"But---"

Ben unwrapped her leg from around his waist and took a step back ending all contact. Rey stared, wide-eyed. The fucking cheeky bastard. 

"We either do this my way, or we don't do it at all. So, how is it going to be?"

"Damn it, you're so arrogant," she said between gritted teeth as the ache and sizzle smoldered inside her.

"Yes, we've already established that part. How is this going to go down, Rey? Your choice."

In the end, Rey was too far gone, too curious about the heights he could take her to, to consider saying anything except, "Your way....sir."

"Good girl. Spread those pretty thighs for me....oh and, Rey?"

"What?" she gasped suddenly, the silkiness of his voice sending delicious shivers all down her spine.

"You know I can _take_ whatever _I_ want." Oh..... _fuck_ me. 


	9. Chapter 9

Leaning against the door, Rey stepped wide. Ben trailed his fingers over her puffed, wet folds, toyed with the tip of her clit, trailed moisture down her thighs. Ben knew just where to touch, when, and for how long to keep her on edge, to grow her want but never to fulfill it. 

Soon, she felt a flush suffuse her skin all over. She was one giant ache, whimpering, dying for him to fill her, conquer this monstrous need he's created.

Rey ran greedy hands over his hard shoulders, the incredible lines of his pectorals, his rigid abdomen. He amazed her. Flesh so hard everywhere, but skin so silk soft to the touch. He lured her close to the edge of restraint with talented fingers, an occasional nip at her breasts. His long, fevered kisses made her moan, arch, silently plead. 

He toyed with her, inciting her higher and higher until she became dizzy, delirious, willing to do most anything for him to end her prolonged torment. In desperation, she trailed her hands down his stomach and grabbed the ridge of his cock through his jeans. 

Huge. Thick and like iron, he could give her what her body needed. So why wasn't he? With a hiss, Ben grabbed hold of her wrist and anchored it against the door near her head.

"You didn't ask to touch me."

"I'd thought you'd like it," she panted.

"You just thought you'd strip my self-control, Rey, so you could get what you want. No, baby. You touch me when you're told to, not before."

Restless, beyond needy, she shifted from one foot to the other. He kept her thighs spread with his feet between hers, so she couldn't clench them together. His fingers toyed again with her nipples, now slightly sore. And somehow that tiny hint of pain only made his every touch more vivid, shot every caress straight down to her clit.

"Please, sir..."

"Please, what, Rey?" He pinched her nipples and murmured the question against her lips. "Do you want me to fuck you now?"

She'd never said those words to a man in her life. Never imagined saying then out loud to anyone. But now, she couldn't imagine saying anything else. She needed Ben now--hard, fast pounding.

"Yes," she whispered. "Fuck me." He hesitated, dark brow raised expectantly. "Sir," she added hastily, panting. "Fuck me, sir."

In reward, he slid a pair of fingers over her clit and rubbed tiny, torturous circles around the hard nubbin. Rey had thought that, surely her arousal could not climb any higher. She'd been dead wrong, she thought with a woman. 

So close now, Rey, Rey's every breath was audible. A drag in, a rush out, air filled her lungs but never made it to her head. 

There was only her heartbeat, drowning out everything except the need to feel him deep inside her. "Unzip my pants."

Rey didn't hesitate, didn't tease. She rushed to pull the zipper down and shoved the hate jeans past down his hips. He wore no underwear, so his cock sprang free into her waiting hands. She rubbed him. Her technique was fast and inexpert, she was sure, driven totally by a need to touch him, feel the man who would soon be inside her.

Fists wrapped around him, one on top of the other, she stroked his thick length and gloried. That is, until he grabbed her wrists and took her hands away, shoving them against the door again.

"You're not following my directions, Rey. I said to unzip my pants, not to take them down, not to stroke my cock. Fail me again, and you won't get this fucking."

She bit her lip, trying to find patience, and nodded. "I'm sorry. I understand....sir."

Her clit pulsed just from saying those words. God, what was wrong with her? She was too far gone to care. Later....

In silence, he extracted a packet from his pocket and shoved his jeans down to his knees. Seconds later, he ripped open the foil square and sheathed the purple head of his cock, then rolled it down his long, hard length.

Slowly. Too damn slowly. Rey resisted the urge to help him or hurry him up or tap her feet in impatience. Suddenly, he bent, lifted her by her hips, and wedged her body between his and the door.

"Put your legs around my waist." She hesitated. Could people really have sex stand up? She'd never tried anything more exotic than woman on top. "Do it." His voice was edged with steel.

Without another pause, Rey lifted both of her legs and folded them around his hips. Moments later, he rewarded her with the feel of his cock probing at her entrance, all thick and needy. Breath held, she clung to his shoulders, on the razor's edge, waiting. 

He eased his tip inside, and even that hard bit of him felt like heaven, like the magic elixir to cure the ache currently roasting her alive. "Say it again," he demanded, voice strained. "Tell me what you want?"

Rey never considering holding back, not now. "Fuck me, Ben. Now!"

With that clear-as-day confession, he pushed her hips down as he thrust up. Tissues unused to such invasion protested at first, unable to accommodate his girth. She cried out. 

"Relax, sweetheart," he ground out. "Open to me, Rey."

Rey did her best to loosen her muscles--hard when she was dying a low death by a raging desire. Ben kept pushing his way inside, the blade of his flesh cutting through her like soft butter, probating past nerve endings with the wide head of his cock, awakening them, leaving tingles screaming in his wake. He made her need soar to new heights, and it seemed like forever until he was buried to the hilt.

Oh, God, she needed to cum. She'd never taken a man this big, this deep before. She could feel him in the back of her tonsils. The width of him stretched her until her flesh burned. But it still wasn't enough. 

The hint of pain fueled something inside her. Her blood raced, perspiration burst across her skin. The ache made her hyperaware of being alive, of the pleasure roiling beside the sting.

"More!" she demanded. "Please...."

Without warning, he withdrew nearly all the way, then eased back in, much gentler than before. The pain slowly faded, but it had charged up the tissues in sex as never before. She swore she could feel every inch, every vein of his cock rasping across suddenly sensitive flesh inside her. 

Ben brought agonizing pleasure with every slow stroke, every rub of the swollen head of his cock right over the flesh inside that had her panting. 

Gasping, burning need immediately took over. Everything else receded but the feel of him, her own dire need of him. "Dear, you feel so sweet," he murmured in her ear as the thrust inside her again. "You _are_ so sweet."

She tried to hold on, hold out against the pleasure threatening to sweep away her sanity. But with those words and the next hard stroke of his cock, orgasm engulfed her like a raging hurricane---swift, strong, unlike anything she'd ever experienced. 

"Ben!" she screamed, nails biting into his shoulders.

Rey knew then that her first instinct was right; she was never going to be the same again after this. With Rey's scream ringing in his ears, Ben surged into the silken heaven of her pussy one more time and lost control of the orgasm he had held onto by a bare thread. The explosion originated low in his belly, driving pleasure out through his cock.

It burst across his body, suffusing bliss everywhere. A wave of dizziness crashed over him. His toes tingled.

The pulses of Rey's second climax fluttered around him, milking him of every last drop of semen, leaving heavy satisfaction in their wake. When had anything ever felt so damn good? Struggling to catch his breath, he opened his eyes to her flushed face, her swollen mouth, the relaxed set of her shoulders. _Did she look like this after a night in Finn's bed?_

The thought slammed from out of nowhere. Anger and denial sluiced through him in a shock, as if he'd jumped into any icy-cold dream. He stilled. Anger? Yes, that Finn had touched her. That she belonged to the bastard. Ah, but you fucked her, he reminded himself. _Revenge really is just that....sweet._

True, but his gut, that gnawing spot that had festered like a wound in acid for three years because of Finn's betrayal, wasn't whooping with elation. 

Instead, he fixated on the feel of Rey around him, on her strawberry scent. He'd just cum inside her and already wanted to do it again. _Not smart, Ben._ He'd lured her into fuck her as payback. First mission objective accomplished. End of story. Ben forced himself to withdraw and set Rey back down on her feet again. She looked at him with wide eyes that simultaneously asked for reassurance and wondered what was next between them. 

He couldn't answer. Stifling a curse, he turned away, tore off the condom, and tossed it in nearby trash can. Why he should be pissed off all over again, he didn't know. 

Because he liked Rey, and she didn't deserve to be used? Maybe because he'd wanted to believe that she wouldn't betray the man she'd agreed to marry by spreading her legs for another. Stupid him. 

He zipped up his jeans and turned to Rey again. Her lower lip quivered. Her posture had gone from satiated to guarded in seconds. Something deep inside his gut wanted to reach out to her, reassure her. Another part of was scared shitless at the magnitude of his reaction to her. 

"Help yourself to anything in the kitchen," he tossed out, then turned away. 

Ben strode to the back of the house, to his private domain. Fishing the keys from his pocket, he unlocked the door. _Go in, shut it, Solo. Don't look at her_. Fucking impossible. 

Ben turned to face her. Across the length of his cottage, he could see the shock on her face, along with the rosy mark of his whiskers on her bare skin, the swollen nipples so sweet and succulent that made his mouth water, and the soft chestnut hair covering the slick utopia of her pussy. His gut clenched. Again. Cross the room, lay her out, fuck her again.

Ignoring the voice, he slammed and locked the door, then stalked toward his computer desk in the corner. He plopped down in his chair and booted up his machine.

But the thoughts and impulses pounding at him were unlike his mundane actions. His instinct told him he'd just made a desire to fuck her and the shock of his frenzied reaction her, he'd have realized that if he wanted Rey to leave Finn, he had to keep her sated and enthralled. 

Constantly. Nothing else would ensure that she willingly walked away from his former pal. And if he had any sense, he'd get on his feet, march back in there, carry her to his bed, and tie her down to it.

But Ben hesitated. Rey had been like a match on the tinder of his control. He needed a breath to recover, to think. _She_ and her feelings weren't important; only the fact that he'd achieved the first part of his revenge was. 

Deciding how to achieve the other half, was the part where she left Finn....that ranked up there. Instead, dangerous fantasies of him laying her out on his bed and having a leisurely feast assailed him. He'd kill to work his mouth from the lush heat of her lips, down that silken throat, to the sweet treats of her berry nipples, over the sleek plain of her abdomen.....all the way down to her wet, clenching little pussy, which he knew would be like ambrosia. 

Damn it, he had to get his mind off his dick and remember that Rey was the means to an end. She'd cheated on her fiancé---not the kind of woman to get tangled up with.

Been there, done that. He had the scars to prove it. To top it all off, she still had a stalker who wanted her dead. She was scared out of her mind, and he'd promised to protect her and get her some answers. 

It was the least he could do. Repaying for using her. He needed to focus on keeping her safe, not dwell on the feel of her around him. Not on how challenging she would be to truly tame. He'd find some way to convince her to leave Finn that didn't involve sinking his cock into her body over and over until they were both too stated to move. 

A quick glance at his watch told Ben it wasn't quite seven in the morning. Too early to call his Kylo, his brother and business partner, or anyone else. 

Kylo had a million connections, from senators to janitors. He'd know someone who knew something about her stalker. But until then, all Ben had to focus on was Rey or revenge. Okay, revenge. He'd think about that, focus on how sweet it was going to be to pay Finn back for his perfidy. 

He didn't feel elation, at least not yet. Likely, he wouldn't until Rey finally left the bastard. But he'd known at the start there was a potential flaw in his plan: If Rey didn't tell Finn about her indiscretion, Ben had no way of ensuring Finn found out.

No way of proving it. And proving it---that was important. Everything. in fact. Rising from his chair, Ben paced. How could he prove to Finn that he'd gotten deep inside this woman and made her scream his name? He'd gotten irrevocable proof of Finn's backstabbing via video but---But....he might be able to provide Finn the same.

Ben slowly smiled. Paybacks really were a bitch....Ignoring the sting of his conscience, he raced back to his chair and fell into his seat, fingers on the keyboard. A few commands later, he found what he'd been looking for; security footage inside the cabin from just a few minutes ago.

Clicking into the file that started at 6 A.M., he watched it in double time until Rey came out stomping and screaming that little green towel of hers. 

Then he sat back to watch a normal speed and full sound. He didn't want to miss a second of this. Hell, she was so gorgeous, all that long dark hair hanging over her shoulders like a fiery flag of temptation.

That creamy skin, lightly freckled and teasing his tongue. He got hard again just remembering the way she smelled, like fresh strawberries with a hint of cinnamon. Rey was the kind of woman---strong, only bendable with effort---that he loved to dive into and eat. He hadn't found a woman like her in a very long time. She was wasted on Finn.

In his black-and-white video, he kissed her, touch her nipples. Watching her eyes slide shut, her skin flush, her back arch t him in offering aroused him all over again.

Being there to experience her had been.....beyond mind-blowing, but watching her this way was like having her again and savoring her every action. She whispered something. He said something back, but the audio on the tape didn't pick it up. It hardly mattered when she dropped the towel.

Though his body blocked most of the view of her body, he saw the plump curve of her breast, a flash of soft, pink folds guarded by chestnut hair. But he saw more. The lush line of her hip, the fluid shape of her thighs. The vulnerability on her face. She was taking a risk with him, and she knew it. And the reservation. She wasn't 100 percent committed to this. But the aching curiosity had finally overwhelmed her concern.

She was dying for a dominant....and didn't want to accept it. There had to be a reason why. He was way more interested in solving that mystery than he really ought to be.

Ben swore again, torn between his own guilt, curiosity, and the hot flash of desire as he watched himself lift her up, brace her against the door, and fill her with a series of ramming thrusts. He remembered---so well it had him sweating---how tight she'd been, how she'd struggled to take him.

But she never uttered a word, never once complained. A wince of pain crossed her face, and Ben bunched his hands inti fists. Damn it, why hadn't she said something to him? 

Hurting her had been the very last thing on is mind. Next time--- _There may not be a next time, Solo,_ he reminded himself. He had what he needed now that he'd found this video. Would the knowledge that she'd felt utter sensual devastation at the hands of a virtual stranger be enough to make her leave Finn? Too early to tell, but he feared getting her to leave the senator's son wouldn't that simple.

He'd have to devise something....

As watched her accept the entire length of his cock and her face suffuse with pleasure, he hoped like hell that one encounter wasn't enough, that she ached to submit to him again. And again.

Why fight the truth? She called to him. Everything about her, her skin, her smell, her grit. She was an interesting mixture of naivete and temptation. Shy and holding back one minute, opening wide and begging him to fuck her the next. 

He liked being a little off balance, ands he gave that to him in full force. The video kept playing, second after second of their hard ride against the door. He could see the orgasm mounting within Rey. Her sweet lips parted. She groaned and tightened her legs around him. He watched her gasp and could nearly feel her silken heat all over him, even now. 

Erasing the memory of her scent, her reactions---all Rey herself---wasn't going to be easy. Ben shifted, adjusting himself in his pants. He grimaced.

How often was he rock hard and ready to sink balls deep into a woman fifteen minutes after taking her? Rarely. How often had a woman lingered in his mind like this after one mere fucking? Never. 

He exhaled. Why was she so different? Then his grandfather's words hit him like a battering ram in the gut. _If you're dreaming about a brunette woman over and over again, you're about to meet her and she's your heart's mate._

Impossible. The woman in his mind, his dreams as he slept at night, was just a fantasy. Nothing more. It wasn't necessarily Rey. But she'd felt a whole lot like a fantasy come true. On-screen, she laws at his back. 

He could clearly hear her say, "Yes, more! So good, Ben!" She panted once, twice, before her lips feverishly brushed his neck. "Never better"

Ben shivered in remembrance. Yes, it had been good. Too damn good. Spec-fucking-tacular, if he was being honest. Damn it, he had no need to fuck her again. Now that he had proof they'd done the deed, his part of revenge was at last....complete. She'd served her purpose. And there was no such thing as a heart's mate. 

"BEN!" He watched Rey scream his name, bounce on him, taking pleasure, giving it. 

Here in his chair, with his gaze fixed on her flushing body, his balls tightened, broiling with the need to cum again. He gritted his teeth against the urge to stroke his cock through his jeans. 

But he could also see her holding something back, keeping some part of her separate from him, removed from his touch. Something he hadn't picked up on with her tight, well walls closing around his cock and his heartbeat drumming loudly in his ears.

He peered in, fixing his gaze on the grainy screen. It remained a mystery. What the hell was that all about?

A few buttons later, he'd rewound the footage and played the last few moments again. Still, he couldn't discern that Rey had kept inside. He only knew it pissed him off. Filled him with an odd sense of.....betrayal. 

With the need to earn her full surrender. Cursing, Ben finally spliced the video, just including the last minute, those few moments of Rey saying she had never had it better, then shouting his name as she came. Maybe Finn wouldn't notice that she was holding something back. It was thin maybe. Finn was a son of a bitch but not fucking stupid.

Still, this was the best footage he had. It would be more than enough to make this point with Finn. He could deal with whatever Rey was hiding later.

Before he could change his mind, Ben sent the snippet of video straight to Finn via email, along with a friendly little side-note: _How is that career in politics going, old friend? Ben Solo._

How long, he wondered, before his old "pal" got an eyeful of his former Army Ranger squadron leader fucking his fiancée? And what would he do? He didn't fight the cold smile of satisfaction.

But Rey crept back into his thoughts. His smile slipped when he fantasized about having her spread out, tied up on his bed for his taking. Utterly at his mercy and utterly his. Wet. Begging. Willing and eager to have him fuck her in every way possible. 

And he wondered what he'd have to do in order to persuade her not just to leave Finn but to surrender that part of her she withheld. He had to know. This urge wasn't going to go away, and he knew himself too well to believe otherwise. Screw everything else. For now, time was on his side. Rey was safe at the moment.

Her stalker likely had no idea where she was. It was hard for someone who wasn't Acadian to follow a son of the swamps into this untamed wilderness.

So Ben would seduce and coax Rey into submission again. And again. She'd leave Finn. And he would have that part of her she hadn't given to him before. That part he suspected she'd never given to any man. Ben planned to make sure that she gave it to him--whatever it took.


	10. Chapter 10

Twenty minutes after Ben had slammed the door in Rey's face, she stood in front of the antique mirror hanging from the bedroom wall and studied her overall appearance. She looked remarkably calm for a woman whose knees were still shaking from orgasms so strong, seismic equipment had surely felt the tremors. 

Scrubbed face, hair whisked back in a single, severe braid down her back. Nothing at all sexy.....if she didn't include Phasma's tight purple submissive-maiden lather getup in that picture. That, unfortunately, was hard to ignore. 

She wasn't about to go prowling through Ben's closet for something else to wear. Too intimate. 

Chewing her lip, Rey hesitated. She couldn't afford to have the bastard think the outfit was the closest thing to an engraved invitation for sex. Maybe if she gave off her best get lost vibes, he'd buy a clue. If now.....

She could find herself screwed---literally---again. And worse, she'd probably love it every bit as much as she had the first time. Sighing, Rey paced the room. What the hell was wrong with Ben, anyway? They had fabulously mind-blowing sex and _he_ ran away?

Of course, if he hadn't beat her to it, she would have darted behind a door and slammed it between them in world-record time. But, still....

Ben was confusing the crap out of her. She should be the one freaked out here, not him. After all, she had a crazy killer stalker after her. She'd just let a dominant man impale her against a door and drive her to two dizzying orgasms---after inspiring the two she'd given to herself---all in about fifteen minute's time. Her desire to submit to him, to obey his raspy voice thick with need in her ear, was so new---yet had felt so natural that she hadn't been able to resist.

She'd responded to every whispered command as if he'd poured pure hot liquid desire all over her skin and let it seep into her blood. In those moment, Ben had made what they were doing feel...amazing. 

So perfectly normal. So right that she'd ached. She hadn't just been accepted as she was, but needed because of it. 

The sense of connection to Ben had swept common sense aside and made her cling to him like a life raft in a hurricane. She'd barely been able to keep herself together while the pressure Ben tore all of her barriers down. Something about him demanded the surrender of more than just her body alone.

She'd refused, clinging to her defenses by her fingernails---barely. He'd left her reeling and stunned. But not broken. Then Ben had all but run from her, tearing off her rose-colored glasses.

She was in the middle of who-knew-where with a man she'd only really just met yesterday, wearing borrowed clothes, with no end to the nightmare in sight, Yet, he had run away. Gee, she guessed that having sex with a client was a bodyguarding no-no. The more she thought about his strange behavior, the more it pissed her off. And it hurt---way more than she wanted to admit.

With an impatient huff, she turned away from the mirror. Mr. Macho-Man had another thing coming if he thought they were going to have sex again. So he had a touch that sizzled desire through her blood, intoxicating her like the most potent wine.

She wasn't going to risk addiction with a repeat performance. But just the thought of it had her body clamoring for more, turning soft and wet at the prospect of experiencing all his determined sexual fire and tightly controlled power yet again. So damn stupid. 

Not only did Ben have temporary written all over him, the only message about him that was even more clear was the one that pronounced him a very bad boy. Honestly, she didn't need any of this!

Down the hall, Rey heard the click of a lock, the opening of the door. From the heavy footsteps, she knew he'd emerged into the hall. Maybe it was very thirteen-year old of her, but she wasn't in the mood to face him right now. 

Not now. Not yet. Let him see just how rejection really feels. Cringing, she dove onto the bed and quickly feigned sleep as Ben made his way down the hall.

He paused at the bedroom door, but Rey wasn't about to open her eyes. Seeing that too-sexy fade taunting he with the carnal knowledge of her body or displaying annoyance---or both---was not her idea of a good time. Let poor Romeo eat his breakfast alone. The thought of food right now held all the appeal of a dog-shit-show. After a long moment, Ben's footsteps continued down the hallway.

She heard a series of electronic beeps, then a ringing. A speakerphone. Who the hell was he calling a seven-thirty in the morning? 

She rose and tiptoed across the bedroom to peek around the corner, Ben stood there, cup of coffee in one hand, making toast with the other. And standing by the cracked handset with an annoyed expression.

"Jesus, Ben!" rasped a scratchy, male voice. It was eerie to her because it sounded very much like Ben's. "Is sleeping in against your religion or did you just figure that if you're up, everyone else should be too?"

Rey couldn't help but overhear the conversation. It wasn't as if he was trying to be quiet. Who in the heck was Ben talking to and why? And she had to agree with the other guy, whoever he was; why had he called at this early hour?

"I didn't sleep at all last night, Kylo. So whatever you got in the way of Z's, is way more than I got. So quit your whining."

"Have you turned vampire now?"

"Want me to slit your wrist and make a generous donation to find out?"

"Oh, biting wit. You are cranky this morning. Get too little sex lately....or maybe you've had too much."

Rey felt the thick rush of embarrassment flood her skin. _Oh God, please, please don't let Ben have called some friend of his to do some locker-room bragging this early in the morning._ That would be the final insult to having her fantasies exposed and her common sense stripped away in a haze of desire, then being left naked, wet and used against a virtual stranger's door.

Ben growled. "Stop being cute and try being a business partner instead of an annoying dumb-fuck of a brother."

Brother? So he's not an only child after all. God, that's awfully terrifying to even begin to contemplate, especially this early in the morning. Well, hopefully the brother has common human decency embedded into him, unlike Ben.

But, she wasn't exactly holding her breath on that one from the tone of his voice, he sounded like a trouble-maker in his own sense. _Great, just great, that's all I need on my conscious,_ Rey told herself as she leaned against the doorframe. Double-trouble---yikes!

"I'm out at the swamp cabin. I've got a woman with a stalker and I need your help with something, so if you could, please take this seriously. I need you to do some research on my behalf." 

Rey breathed out a sigh of relief after hearing that last bit. "No shit, man! A woman with a crazy stalker!" said the man Ben had now identified as Kylo. "So, tell me, when did she become a client?"

"Yesterday, when he took a shot at her in broad daylight in a crowd. I was sitting less than two feet from her." 

"Holy....what info do you have in the whacko?"

Quickly, Ben ran down the information Rey had given him at dawn. _All_ the information--the minute details of her sexual history, thankfully excluding himself. Despite that small favor, the rush of mortification returned, along with foot-stomping fury.

Gee, why not just take out a billboard along the highway just to make sure that everyone knew who she'd done the wild thing with in the past? No big deal. And now she had to Bento add to the list. What on earth had she done?

An offering to fax copies of the latest pictures her stalker had left, Ben hung up. 

He paced across the long, narrow once, twice, then turned his gaze to the hallway, barely visible through the crack in the door, alive with purpose. Rey leapt back onto the bed and feigned sleep again as his footsteps sounded his approach. 

"Shit," he snarled, then turned away.

She didn't know exactly what was going to happen, but she knew enough to realized he'd done something that her own mother would be happy to wash out of his mouth with soap for saying. Moments later, she heard the dial tone, the beeping and ringing again? Geez, another call? Did he expect everyone to awake at this hour? 

"Yes?"

"Grandfather, good morning."

"That it is, my dear boy. Jolly good. The sun is out, the birds are singing, the flowers are all in bloom. So, tell me, lad, how is your pretty girl?"

"Her name is Rey," he said with forced patience. "And I told you before, she's not mine."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Time tells, yeah? She's got brown hair under that wig?"

Ben hesitated. Anakin was going to make entirely too much of Rey's hair color. It didn't mean anything. _So what was that jolt of connection you felt to her when you were buried balls deep within her slick, wet heat? What was that strange sensation of wanting to crawl inside her and own her?_

Really good sex and the knowledge that she'd been holding something back he was determined to have? Had to be that....or insanity. 

"I didn't call you to discuss Rey's hair color, grandfather."

"She does, doesn't she!" The old man crowed, then laughed. 

"Grandfather....."

"You see, I told you, Benjamin. Just yesterday. I told you. Those dreams, my boy, they _do_ mean something."

The old man was not going to give this thing up. "Okay, yes. Her hair is brown just like the girl in my dreams. You happy now, you old fucking fart?"

"Very good, very good, and yes, I am," Anakin said smugly. "She's dressing any better today, your pretty girl?"

"Actually, that's why I called you. Can you do me a favor and pick up a few things for her to wear in a size six and bring them to the cabin?"

"This I can do. I'm having lunch with your aunt, Mon Mothma, then I'll be out that way."

"Fine. Warm, practical clothes, grandfather. And please for my own sanity, no unexpected surprises."

"Why you worried about surprises? Don't you worry about a thing, my dear boy, I'll bring you exactly what you need."

"Yeah and somehow that thought literally terrifies me." 

Time dragged by, and Rey bathed again. Paced. She skipped breakfast. Ben stayed in his locked room at the end of the hall, pacing with heavy footsteps she couldn't help but notice and hear. What did he have to be so disturbed about?

The stalker hadn't caught up to them yet, and Ben had gotten laid. From his angle, it had to looked like a win-win situation for him. 

Rey on the other hand, hadn't been quite so lucky. She managed to hold a part of herself back from Ben--or though she had---but as time passed she couldn't shake this damn yearning for him. It sank deeper, growing, urging her to touch him. Rey feared she'd given Ben a huge chunk of her psyche. Not a good development. 

As soon approached, she made herself a sandwich. The only drinks in Ben's refrigerator were bottles of water and beer. Normally, Rey would opt for the water. 

Today, she gratefully took a beer and disappeared into the bedroom again, lying listlessly on the bed. She spent hours trying not to think about Ben, the way he'd touched her, the way his voice had crawled inside her head and her body, then seemed to challenge her, own her. 

Forgetting the pleasure that seared her was proving near next to impossible, not when she could close her eyes and still feel the pull of his mouth at her nipple, the width of his cock stretching her to the max. 

Not when she couldn't forget that demanding, compelling voice, those seducing dark eyes. The thoughts brought on a fresh, new desire. Thick, bubbling desire, swirling inside her to form an insistent throb. Her clit ached, and she could not believe how wet she was, how swollen her folds felt. She'd never been ruled by her hormones. So why now? Rey thought about self-pleasuring herself again, but refrained.

She didn't want to be caught by Ben again. The mortification had nearly killed her once, but twice in one day....

She grimaced. Still, she might have risked it if she had believed it would douse the dire raging inside of her. But the fire was one she feared only Ben could put out. A knock at the cottage's front door startled Rey. 

She whirled to the clock on the little cypress beside the bed. Nearly four-thirty in the afternoon. Ben tore open the door to his hiding place and streaked down the hall. On his way past, he cast a heated glance into the bedroom, right at her, a glance that said he remembered every kiss, every touch between them---and that as far as he was concerned, they weren't no where near done.

A quick glance down his muscled chest covered in a tight black T-shirt, past those six-pack abs....Oh, hell. He was hard. There was no mistaking that bulge. 

Need slammed into her belly. Her gaze flew back into his. "We'll talk later."

About sex. He didn't speak it, but the words hung heavy in the air. "I have nothing to say to you," she protested automatically.

Talking about sex would only make her want to have it with Ben again. Bad idea. Already, she was more fixated on him than was considered smart, more than she'd ever been on a man---even the one she'd agreed to marry once upon a time.

She just needed to evade this stalker, figure out who it was, and get back to her job and the sanity of her life in L.A. "Believe me, Rey, we have plenty to discuss. Now come and meet my grandfather." 

Rey crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to budge. Any satisfaction she got out of watching Ben grind his teeth came to a halt when she stalked across the room, his intent to grab her and drag her to the door written all over his face. If he touched her, she would only want him more. 

The scalding desire inside her was already too hot, too dangerous. And it made her so angry she could spit fire. 

"Don't fucking touch me." She jerked away from him. "I can walk on my own."

"Then get your pretty ass moving before I paddle it with the palm of my hand."

Her eyes narrowed at this threat. "You wouldn't dare."

He snorted. "You want to try me?"

No. No, she didn't. His hard determination to lift her purple skirt and spank her ass was etched into the dark challenge of his eyes, into the hard lines of his aggressive stance. The thought outraged her. Unfortunately, it aroused her, too. More of the cream from her arousal soaked the little thong she wore, coating her sex thoroughly with every single step she took. She prayed he couldn't tell.

"You're such a bastard," she muttered as she walked past Ben and into the cottage's main room.

"Look, if you were expecting Prince Charming here, I'm sorry. He's with his boyfriend," Ben quipped as he sailed by her and pulled the front door open. "You'll have to leave a message after the beep, but don't' expect any returned calls."

An old man entered, carrying two shopping bags in hand. Instantly, she saw what Ben would look like in fifty years. Tall, lean, with thick silver hair and dancing dark eyes, the man ambled into the cottage with a smile teasing the corners of his lips.

"Ben." He greeted him with a nod. "Your aunt Mothma sends you her love and a loaf of homemade bread."

He reached into one of the sacks and retrieved a plastic container. Rey smelled the yeast of the bread with the spice of the swamp's vegetation lazing in the temperature February day. 

It was unlike anything she'd ever smelled before. Nothing about being with Ben was like anything she'd ever experienced before. Before she could process the thought, the old man approached her, wearing a mischievous smile. "Rey, I'm Anakin Skywalker. Ben's grandfather on his mother's side."

He stuck out his hand, and she clasped his to shake it. Instead, he brought her hand up to his lips and gave her a gallant kiss. Despite her discomfort in meeting an old man while wearing only a skimpy purple leather, Rey couldn't help but smile. She'd bet that in his day he'd had a lot of luck with anything in a shirt.

"Rey Johnson."

His sharp brown gaze lifted to her hair. "An English lass with a fiery sprit. Ben loves women with brown hair, don't you, boy? Apparently, it runs in the family."

"Grandfather...." Ben warned. "Stop making mischief and just give her the damn bag."

A glance at the bag told Rey there were clothes inside it. Her itched to get her hands around it, to wear something besides a getup that only encouraged her recklessness and made her more aware of her sexuality than mere garments should. 

But Anakin was in no hurry to hand the bag over. "In due time, of course. Can't an old man sit down for a minute and talk to a pretty girl?"

He cast Ben a challenging glance, then shuffled over to the sofa, making a big show of easing his weary old bones down onto a cushion. Then he set the bag on the floor between his feet and patted to the spot beside him.

"Come, love," he said to Rey. "Sit next to an old man, yeah, and let him remember the days he could have asked such a pretty girl for a dance."

Rey sliced her gaze to Ben, brow raised. "Pretty girl," he supplies in a long-suffering sigh. "And don't be suckered by his old-man routine. He's still as sharp as a tack, that one."

Anakin harrumphed. "The boy tends to forget, I'm eighty-two."

"Grandfather forgets, I'm no idiot," Ben said with a fond smile.

Rey watched their byplay with an awareness of their love and affection for each other---and not without a bit of envy. Her biological father had never wanted anything to do with her, so she'd bet his parents knew nothing of her. And her mother's parent's had disowned their daughter when she'd become pregnant while unmarried.

They'd died shortly before Rey's tenth birthday, the rift un-mended. She'd never had a grandparent, much less a character like Anakin in her own family.

Ben groaned. "He's a master fisherman. He just baited, hooked, and lured you in, Rey."

Must run in the family, she thought bitterly. "Maybe, I'm catching her just for you, Ben, yeah," Anakin countered. "Thanks to my time in the army, those nice manners your mother taught you ain't what they used to be. Without my help, I don't think Rey would let you near her."

She froze, then forced a relaxing laugh. The old man couldn't tell what had happened between her and Ben this morning. Thank God....

But once glance in Ben's direction, and Rey knew she was in deep trouble. He sent her a hard, hot glance that forced her to remember and promised more, much more, until she drowned in pleasure. A ravenous ache resounded in her gut, echoed between her legs, and she felt her nipples swell again. Rey bit her lip to hold in a gasp. Too bad she couldn't contain the flush that was crawling up her cheeks.

Anakin glanced away from Ben, over to her. A new smile danced at his mouth, moving, the salt-and-pepper mustache above it. He looked mighty pleased with himself. "Are you Catholic, Rey?"

The question took her aback. "I-I was raised in the Church. Yes."

Ben groaned. "Grandfather, Rey's religion is none of our business."

"Given enough time, it might be." He slapped his knee and rose to his feet in a surprisingly spry move and handed her the bag with a Cheshire-cat smile. 

Wondering what the heck he meant by that comment, Rey couldn't escape the feeling that the old man had pulled the wool over her eyes. He might be eight-two, but he wasn't slow---mentally pr physically, Ben had warned her....

"Put those to good use." Anakin gestured to the bag with a jerk of his head and a wink. 

Then, with a slap on Ben's shoulder, the old man practically skipped out the front door. _Put those to good use_ , Ben's grandfather had said. Fingering the golden silk of the laced-edge camisole and matching thong.

Rey could take a wild guess at what Anakin thought good use would entail. And it probably involved indulging acts with Ben---acts she'd only vaguely heard about. Cursing under her breath, Rey stood in Ben's bedroom still wearing Phasma's slut-in-purple costume and tried to decide what to change into. Anakin had brought her three sets of undergarments, each sexier than the last. Nothing else.

"Damn it, Rey!" Ben shouted through the door. "I called you to dinner ten minutes ago! How long does it take to get dressed?"

"Long enough to figure out how to cover all the essentials with the items your grandfather brought."

"What the hell?" Ben flung the door open and barged into the room.

When he saw the garments all spread out on the bed, he stopped and stared. His gaze roved over the golden lace-up camisole, drifted to the black corset with garter belts and high-thigh stockings, then settled in the burgundy bra trimmed in champagne lace---with cutouts so her nipples could poke through. 

It came with matching crotchless panties. "Is this seriously all he brought?"

"You got it."

"Son of a bitch," Ben's expression showed his inner war between annoyance and amusement.

"These aren't warm or practical," she pointed out, sharing his annoyance but none of the amusement.

With a turn of his head, Ben pinned his stare on her. Oh, sweet heaven... Heat infused the dark depths of his eyes, tempting as melted chocolate, alive like the rich earth. She knew in that moment he was doing best to picture her in each set of undergarments. 

Worse, Rey could imagine herself wearing them for Ben. Imagining his reaction. If the hearty erection currently straining his jeans was any indication, he was more than a little interested.

The thought aroused her far more than it should. Her vagina clenched, spasming with need. Beneath the leather, her nipples stabbed at her bra. "They definitely aren't warm," he agreed. "Practical....well, that depends on the purpose."

"Since I'm not here to reenact a porn flick, they aren't practical for my purposes. Was this a joke or some kind of mistake?"

"Neither."

"So he wants us to...." Rey's eyes widened even as shock raised her blood pressure.

'You mean to fuck like wild rabbits? Absolutely. He's all for anything that might persuade me to remarry."

Remarry? Her first thought was that she'd only met Ben in person twenty-four hours ago, so leaping to the concept of marriage seemed extreme. Her second thought was that she never would have guessed he'd been married before. 

"You've been married?"

Beside her, he straightened, tensed. "It was short. We divorced three years ago. End of conversation."

She frowned. That might be the end of the conversation, but that wasn't the end of the emotions for Ben. Clearly, his divorce still had the power to hurt or piss him off. But wisely, she let it go. Ben's personal life was none of her business. Digging into the man's past was only going to make her even more curious about the man as a whole.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder just exactly what had happened to cause the divorce in the first place. 


	11. Chapter 11

"Choose one of your getups," he snapped, gesturing to the naughty lingerie on the bed. "I'll give you my robe and a pair of socks, then come eat. The food is getting cold."

Rey wanted to say she'd just wear what she had on, but as the sun had fallen, the temperate had dropped too much for that. And it wasn't the best outfit to wear if she wanted to diffuse the awareness between herself and Ben. Not to mention, the thing she currently wore was uncomfortably wet and clinging to her swollen folds--a constant reminder of her arousal.

"Thank you," she murmured.

He grunted as he retrieved his rob and socks from a nearby wardrobe, tossed them her way, and then left the room again.

Rey chose the items that seemed the least racy. She crossed the hall and let herself into the bathroom, golden cami and thong in hand, and set about changing. The new thong was tiny. All lace as it wound around her hips, bisected the cheeks of her ass, and edged the legs of the garment.

The fabric covering everything else....total sheer. The mirror in the bathroom showed her the explicit way the outrageously feminine lace framed the dark curls over the delta between her legs, showcasing the chestnut color. 

It was designed to make a man's eyes latch onto a woman's mount immediately. A hitch of both fear and arousal tickled in her belly. _No, bad, bad reaction...._

Chastising herself, Rey peeled off the bra Phasma had given her. This camisole covered less than the bra, if that was even possible. Again, trimmed in gold lace, it dipped low, half an inch above her nipples. It was form fitting and offered gentle support below her breasts but was cut low in between to reveal cleavage. Delicate lace decorated the top and bottom edges of the utterly sheer garment and served as the tie in the laces between her breasts, accentuating her tight nipples poking the thing fabric. 

Rey was pretty sure she'd never looked sexier in her life. Knowing that Ben could incite her to massive, broiling orgasms was surely making her feel hyperaware of herself as a woman.

Imagining his reaction to this....outfit was arousing the hell out of her. Jesus, her imagination needed to take a serious vacation.

But it was more than the orgasms, as much as she hated to admit it. With Ben, she'd felt a dizzying freedom unlike anything she'd ever known with a lover. A freedom to want whatever she desired. And utter acceptance of her longings. 

Despite her head telling her that her needs were wrong, her body ached for more. She didn't even fully comprehend what she craved, but Ben could give her everything she'd ever fantasized about. All of that coupled with the feeling of security she had here with him, as if her stalker were a million miles away, encouraged her to explore her dark side with her infuriating, enigmatic protector. 

She had to get a grip on herself. Fantasies weren't reality, and she didn't really want to perform all those acts that were springing deep from her imagination. Really, she didn't.

With shaking hands, Rey grabbed Ben's robe. She belted the enormous thing around her waist; put on the sweat socks that were double the size of her own two feet, and marched to the eat-in kitchen's bleached wood table, hoping she looked somewhat frumpy. 

When she reached the kitchen, she saw Ben had laid out some thick soup that had an orangish base with lots of rice and chunks of meat, his aunt's homemade bread, and a slab of butter. A small salad sat in another bowel.

Wow, he's a dominant _and_ a cook. _That's quite impressive,_ Rey told herself as she steadily made her way over towards the table. 

A big glass of water sat above her silverware. Ben, on the other hand, was fisting a bottle of whiskey and eyeing her as if she were a tempting treat, unable to completely shield the feral hunger in his eyes that told her he wanted to strip her, cram her full of himself, and make her scream. Apparently, he didn't see the robe as frumpy. 

"I made chicken and sausage gumbo," he rasped as his gaze roved over her face, down her bare neck, to the hint of skin visible between her breasts. He shifted in his seat. "Ever eaten gumbo before?"

She shook her head, wondering--though she knew she shouldn't----if he was still incredibly, mouthwateringly hard. "It's thick and spicy." 

Like the air between them. Like the flesh he'd filled her with this morning. Trembling, Rey looked away and stared into her gumbo. She had to stop thinking like this, with nothing but her hormones. But she couldn't eat, all too aware of Ben's stare fixed on her as he held the whiskey bottle in his hand.

Rey swallowed, feeling her pulse accelerate. "You're staring at me."

He inclined his head. "Yes, I am."

"All you can see is this overlarge bathrobe." 

Ben set the whiskey aside. Suddenly, she felt her chair being dragged along the hardwood floor, closer to him. She looked down to find his foot hooked around the leg as he pulled it beside him, right next to his heat and spice.

"Yeah, I'm staring. First and foremost, I'm male, and you're a gorgeous woman. Second, I'm just wondering which of those outfits of teasing torture you decided to put on beneath my robe. And third, I haven't forgotten exactly what you feel like pulsing around my cock."

Rey sucked in air as desire slammed into her, leaving her short of breath. Clearly, any restraint exhibited here would be up to her. Not good news, since she didn't have much.

He leaned down and nuzzled the sensitive skin below her ear. Rey shivered as he said, "You were slick and tight, Rey. So amazing to fuck. You responded to my commands like you were born to submit. Like it was so natural. I've thought about nothing all day long except tying you down to the bed and spending morning, noon and night finding ways to make you cum until you scream your throat raw; then beg me to give you more."

Blunt. Graphic. Unapologetic. Direct. His words should have been a major turnoff. The feminist in her thought she should be offended that he found her to be so purely sexual. She wasn't that lucky. 

Ben was her mind's nightmare--arrogant, demanding, difficult. But he was her psyche's fantasy---hot, untamed, determined to have her and force her to experience every naughty fantasy her fevered mind had ever conjured up.

A fresh rush of moisture dampened her new thong, and her clit began to ache anew. Rey closed her eyes. This had to stop. _Had_ to. No ifs or buts about it.

Or she was going to give in. She wasn't sure she could live with the repercussions---or herself---if she did. "Ben, listen to me, I'm interviewing you for a TV show about your lifestyle, not inviting you to tell me every one of the thoughts lurking in the dark corners of your mind. If you can't keep it yourself, you should take me back to my car. I-I'll return to New York and--"

"And what? Wait for your stalker to find you? Rape you? Shoot you? Kill you? We've been over this already. You're in the middle of a swamp and much safer here with me, surrounded by sophisticated security systems and a bodyguard, than you are anywhere else. My brother Kylo is putting together a profile now as we speak. Once we have it, we can figure out who your psycho is and nail him. But until then, I think you'd be wise to stay. Unless you're more afraid of sex than a stalker?"

Damn it, he'd picked the worse possible time to be logical. "Of course not. You're just making me really uncomfortable."

"No, the truth is making you uncomfortable. I'm merely making you aware of it. I want you. You want me. It's pretty simple, I think."

"It's oversimplified, big boy."

He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took a long swallow. Rey watched in fascination as his Adam's apple bobbed in his tight-muscled throat. 

When to was empty, he set the bottle down onto he table. "You can't lie, nor can you hide your true self from me, Rey. Your eyes, they tell me you want to be cuffed and clamped and fucked often. An you want me to be the one doing it." 

Mind trying to outrace the desire searing through her brain, she shook her head. "Look, we both had an itch this morning, and we scratched it. After, you ran as if I was diseased. You couldn't get away from me fast enough. If you hadn't, I would have. We're done with each other."

"You think so, little girl? What we did, it was powerful, yeah," he said, those dark eyes boring into her, forcing her to listen, willing her to understand. "If I hadn't left, I would have carried you to the bed, tied you down, and not let you up again until I'd fucked all of your perfect pink entrances and found each of your hidden sensitive spots and every way possible to drive you body fucking insane!" 

Rey gasped. That should not arouse her. The idea that he would have touched her anywhere he pleased, demanded a blow job and, if she took him literally, anal sex, absolutely shouldn't make any part of her leap with excitement.

Curiosity and wicked fantasies were one thing. Actually indulging in them....no. But there was no denying the desire that charged through her with the force of an invading army, pulsing need and heat into her clit, making her beaded nipples ache.

Just like there was no denying that if she tried to leave here and return to New York, the person after her would very likely try to kill her again. Only this time, he might succeed. 

She let out a shaky breath. What a hell of a place to be, trapped by dangerous with a man capable of giving her amazing pleasure while making her submit to ever wicked desire she'd ever denied herself. Damn it, she'd been fighting her wants since Poe's rejection, warring against her dark side until she hurt. 

She couldn't just roll over and spread her legs for a dominant stranger---no matter how appealing new newly awakened body might find that notion. 

"I grant you that I'm much safer here than in New York or Los Angeles, I'm not stupid, and I know I can't fight a man I haven't seen and don't understand."

"But?"

"I just want things to be platonic. I'm supposed to be interviewing you. You're supposed to protect me. Nowhere in those job descriptions is the wild thing mentioned. We got completely way off track this morning." 

Ben leaned closer, until she felt his breath on her mouth, smelling faintly of whiskey and something spicy. "Platonic?"

"Yeah, you know, polite. Friendly?" Rey tried to scoot her chair away. "No sex."

He wasn't budging. "I know what it means, Rey. I just don't agree with it, is all. Why do you think we shouldn't be having the most amazing sex of the year with each other?"

"I don't want the things you want. I'm just not into your....scene."

She focused on her gumbo. It would be easier if she could tell him she thought her desires were twisted and wrong. Hurting him might make him go away faster. But having been on the receiving end of such slurs, she couldn't do it to him.

You're not a talented lair, either, a voice in her head whispered. She shut her eyes against it.

"And," she went on, "despite what happened earlier, I'm not a causal-sex person." 

Ben said nothing for the longest moment. He simply stared, as if trying to decipher her every thought. He didn't touch her. He just stared---hard, hot, as if he was picturing and plotting to do every wicked thing to her she'd ever imagined. The explosive desire on his face ripped past her defenses, searing her clear to her unruly imagination, to her throbbing clit still so hungry for him, to the inexplicable draw she felt in her soul to him.

Damn it, she had to get away from him, now. Rey wrapped the robe's lapels tightly around herself and started to rise from her chair. 

He clamped a hand around her arm, firmly holding her in place. "Those are the only reasons? You're not into casual and you're going to keep lying to yourself that you don't like the way that I fuck you?"

"I really want you to stop saying such outrageous crap and agree to keep our interaction professional." 

"So you want me to promise not to touch you?" His grip tightened on her arm. 

"I've been saying that all along, yes."

Chin high, eyes declaring her resolve. Rey hoped she looked convincing enough. She hoped Ben had no idea that inside, her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. That his nearness, scent and touch just brought back the rush of pleasure and exhilaration she'd felt when he'd been deep inside her.

"Yeah, you've been saying it; I just don't believe it. Not a word of it." Ben laughed, an ironic chuckle, complete with a mocking smile. "What are you so afraid of, Rey? If I don't excite you, then, when I touch you, say no. If you're not interested that shouldn't be all that too hard for you."

"I shouldn't have to say anything!" Rey gaped. "You're really starting to piss me off. Can't you just be a gentlemen and agree with my wishes?"

"With chemistry like ours, no. Even if I wanted to keep my hands off you, which I certainly don't, it would only be a matter of time before I was balls deep inside you, pounding away." 

"Stop it, now damn it! That's not true! I don't say yes to every man who snaps his fingers!"

He then slid his palm up her arm to he shoulder, then diverted to her breast. His thumb encountered a hard nipple and flicked it, as if to make a point. She gasped, then bit her lip as she realized her huge error.

Ben gave her a long, wicked smile---the kind that only made her more wet. Between that and his touch, he turned her on as easily as he flipped on a light switch. The hard pulse between her thighs was something she simply couldn't ignore. 

"Sure it is. The street is going both ways, here. I can tell," he said. "As I see it, Rey, my job is keeping you safe. But I'm also going to show you what you what your body craves and help you be honest with yourself. That," he caressed the hard point of her breast again. "is my pleasure." 

Then he released her and rose, gumbo bowel in his hand. "Maybe you're lying to yourself about what I want," she blurted to his retreating back. "Did you ever stop to think of that? Maybe you're totally off base when it comes to me."

Ben paused, turned, and pinned her with a blunt stare that made her heart stop. "If that was the case, you wouldn't be wet enough for me to smell, and I wouldn't know that you'd soaked two thongs in just one day, sweetheart." 

************

Hazy morning. Sunlight slanted across the swamp in lazy golden rays to settle on his porch, illuminating the small figure of a woman and her chestnut tresses as they cascaded down her narrow back, covered by a man's dark shirt. His shirt.

Contentment and yearning. Hope and need. And lust. It all hit him as she tilted her head. A corner of her mouth hinted at a smile. 

Happy. He wanted to see her happy, protected. He'd never loved anyone so much in his life. The woman, a mystery, was his. Ben knew that as well as he knew his own name. Just once he wanted to see her face. After six months of futile dreaming and waking up hard with no relief in sight, of feeling this yearning for a woman he'd never seen, he needed to know who she was. _Turn around_ , he silently demanded. 

Slowly, so damn slowly, she began to turn his way. A delicate ear, a graceful neck, a stubborn slop to her jaw, fair skin like porcelain. That was far more than he'd ever seen of this woman, but the greedy part of him wanted more bared to his gaze.

He wanted everything. She kept turning. A hint of apple in her cheek.....Ben jolted awake. Damn it! So close this time. So close....but he still couldn't see her face. 

Stirring from a fitful sleep on the sofa, Ben opened his eyes and glanced down at his watch. Just after midnight. No what? He laid back on the couch, breathing hard, gritting his teeth against a steel-inspired erection that always followed the dream. The fucking thing tormented him more frequently these days---nearly ever night for the past two weeks? Why?

Certainly, his grandfather and the old man's crazy theories about soulmates and dreaming of destined lovers was all bullshit. It had to be.

If there was any such thing as a woman destined to be his, he wouldn't torture himself with a dream. He'd simply find her and claim her. And prove she was just another woman he could walk away from. End of story. 

Ben was perfectly happy with that explanation except.....why did the woman in his dream have the same hair as Rey if the dream was irrelevant? Why did Rey feel like more than the means to his revenge plans whenever he touched her? Shoving the stray thought aside, Ben blinked, trying to rid tired eyes of the exhaustion. Last night, he hadn't slept even a handful of hours. Tonight was no different.

Having those nocturnal visions haunting his sleep and Rey under his roof wasn't helping him catch up on his beauty rest. And judging from the erection throbbing inside his boxers like an insistent toothache, along with vestiges of the dream, she wasn't likely to get much more sleep tonight.

Rising with a stretch, Ben sighed and donned his jeans with a grimace. Immediately, his thoughts turned to Rey. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? He'd tackled a big part of his revenge and emailed Finn Ross the proof that he'd been deep inside his enemy's woman as a man could get.

Now, his revenge would be complete as soon as Rey left the disloyal asshole she planned to marry. But what if she didn't?

Lots of women wanted to be married to one of the esteemed Senator Ross's sons. Money. Power. Connections. Good looks. Finn had all that, but he'd never have a political career of his own. Ben had made damn sure of that. 

Still, that didn't solve any of his problems. If Rey and Finn didn't part ways, his revenge would be incomplete. That had to be why he didn't feel more victorious now. 

Ben paced spearing hands tense with frustration through his thick mane of dark hair. He looked more like a muffled bear the second he was finished. Maybe he was lookin at this all wrong. After viewing the little video he'd sent, soon or later, jealousy would start eating away at Finn's gut. No question about it.

When a man had a woman like Rey, he wanted to keep her safe and whole and so sated that the idea of sex with another man never crossed her mind.

Once Finn had time to gnaw on the visual evidence that Rey had strayed---and with his enemy----the idiot's pride would demand that he let her go. Frowning, Ben realized a tactical error in that plan. Finn dumping Rey could cause her great pain. The thought of her anguish made him want to flay himself with a whip of self-censure. Not only would Finn leaving Rey hurt her, it wouldn't satisfy the writhing mass of hate in his hut for Finn.

In order for Ben to get full closure, Rey _must_ realized that she deserved someone who understood her, a man who could give her what her mind and body craved. 

She had to acknowledge that Finn couldn't satisfy her. And Ben figured it was his job to prove that very fact to her. How could he tempt her to leave Finn? Pacing across the room, toward the cottage's lone bedroom, Ben pushed open the door. 

Holy shit, Rey had pushed off her covers, baring herself to the night. He wished she was bare to him. While that wasn't actually the case, it was close. She wore next to nothing, only the golden-lace camisole and thong.

Moonlight spilling into the room bathed the sweet blush-pink nipples and chestnut fringe of her pussy in a soft silver light. It called attention to things he ,oved about her body and made him want to howl at the moon, absolutely. Coaxing his way into that bed, into her body again, was as necessary as drawing his next breath.

It was the eye for an eye the vindictive part of him craved. But his desire hardly stopped there. And he feared it was about more than revenge. His cock gave a greedy leap at the thought of having Rey again in any way that could bring them both to screaming pleasure....

The want was a blast of heat drilling through his erection and his brain. Damned odd, really. He didn't fixate like this usually. A willing woman was cause for a good mood and good times, always. This was so much....more. This was.....this was something else. His body went wild at the thought of teaching Rey about her sexuality, about the desires that haunted her to sweating resistance and whimpering wails of pleasure.

He ached to show her just how to take the thing he dished out, give the burn back to him, and share in the mind-blowing mental and physical satisfaction. 

The likelihood if that happening.....Ben shook his head. She wasn't going to surrender easily or without a fight, and he wasn't out to break her. Just show her how much satisfaction she'd find in submission.

Stalking into the bedroom, Ben lit a few candles throughout the room, then dropped himself into the chair in the corner and stared at her, absently adjusting the unyielding length of his cock in his jeans.

How did he tempt to take a walk on the wild side with him so he could prove to her she could just be as free and submissive as she yearned for and still be okay with herself---all while convincing her to leave Finn so he could achieve the vengeance he'd plotted for nearly three fucking years?

How could he get her to give him that part of herself she'd held back from him before, the part he was sure she'd never given to any man? A mischievous smile lifted his lips as an idea just occurred to him.

Simple, direct and effective. Eager to out it in motion, he jogged back into his locked enclave and retrieved two pairs of heavy velvet ropes. Let the games begin.....


	12. Chapter 12

Rey slowly woke, drifting on the gaze of an erotic dream where she lay on the grass naked to the moonlight, arms tossed above her head in abandon as tender pulls at her nipples created a pool of sweat pleasure between her legs. She writhed. Silvery moonbeams worshipped her, caressing the undersides of her arms, her belly, the tops of her thighs with a feathery touch. She moaned.

Leaves fell from the trees above in a light summery breeze, drifting down to glide over her bare breasts, sensitive nipples.

Again and again the leaves dropped from their trees and found their way to her body, the gentle abrasion of their texture on her skin slowly awakening for her sensual need. One leaf had a sharp edge as it drifted across her body. A slight sting in the hard peak of her breast surprised her.

She tried to dodge the leaf, but it was gone, replaced by a glide of heat, then a sudden well of desire between her legs. Another sharp leaf pinched at the other nipple. Another swelling of desire bloomed inside her. She arched to the gentle pain and was again rewarded with a fresh flood of heat and moisture. The ache between her thighs became a throb, a drumbeat inside her body calling for release. Rey moaned, shifted. Beneath her, the grass seemed oddly smooth. She tried to sit up but was unable to move.

Another leaf drifted over her left breast, smooth, silky, gently rousing. It was quickly followed by a sharp leaf that curled around her nipple and bit. Pain faded an instant later, replaced by a merciless need in the tight tips of her breasts. She arched, seeking more, as another leaf drifted down her abdomen and brushed over the top of her mound. 

Sensations mounted, one on top of the other, until her body demanded more. She struggled to move, to touch herself---only to find she couldn't. Another leaf clamped down on one nipple, this time harder than before. She cried out.

Preparations dampened the skin between her breasts and thick, liquid want converged into a unending ache between her legs. Rey opened her eyes and threw off the last vestiges of sleep.

And quickly discovered that her breasts weren't being tormented by leaves but by the smooth slide of Ben's tongue, followed by the erotic nibble of his teeth. Before she even knew what she was doing, Rey arched up, her body silently offering her sensitive nipples to a hot-eyed Ben, overruling anything her mind might have said.

"That's it. Good girl," he murmured hotly across her breasts. 

Candlelight glowed softly as she looked down at her body and realized that he'd unlaced the camisole and pulled it wide, completely exposing her twin mounds and their hard peaks. As if in slow motion, Rey watched him lower his mouth to her again. 

His wide, bare shoulders bulged, a pulse-rating shadow in the moonlit room, as he eclipsed everything else. She pulled at her arms and legs, desperate to embrace him.

Instead, she found them bound firmly to the four posts of Ben's bed. God, she was totally at his mercy. That realization jolted her with a rush of dark pleasure---and that scared the living hell out of her.

A warning boomed in her belly like thunder. The hard clamp of desire plaguing her drowned it. That man made her want, so badly that dragging in a steady breath was difficult, so much that finishing a coherent thought was nearly impossible. What was it about Ben Solo and the way that he touched her?

He ignored her writhing and peppered the full circle of her breasts with soft kisses, laved the nerve-heavy tips with a bold swipe of his tongue. The hard heat of his chest burned over her belly, and her body fevered for more of the silky burn of his skin, his mouth.

Her nipples tightened even more, until they became pointed red nubs that begged him to continued with anything, everything, he wanted. 

In response, Ben pinched her nipples, twisting slightly. A sharp mix of pain and pleasure had her crying out his name. "I'm here, Rey, to fulfill every forbidden fantasy swimming around in your mind." 

Desire jolted through her body, making her buck under his tongue as he resumed the sensual torture on her nipples. She drew in another shuddering breath as his tongue circled around the throbbing tip. She whimpered. The man was twisting her inside out, turning her into a wanton stranger. 

Into a woman nearly willing to say yes to anything he offered. Ben didn't simply want to give her pleasure; he wanted to control her, addict her, turn her into the depraved wanton Poe had been so contemptuous of.

She'd never been any man's doormat in the past. She wasn't starting now. "No," she panted. "Stop, I didn't agree to this! I don't want this!"

He raked a pair of fingers through the exposed slit of her sex. Rey knew she was more than damp. She was embarrassingly wet, swollen. Aching. His touch only ramped up the pleasure, made thick moisture gush from her weeping opening again.

He sent her a low, sexy chuckle. His well-muscled torso rippled with every move and made the wicked part of her ache to put her hands all over his body and feel his vitality.

"Your mouth is saying the words for you, but your body is making one hell of a liar out of you." His whisper taunted, challenged. "Are you sure you don't want this?"

"Are you fucking deaf as well as stupid? I said that I didn't agree to this!" She accused. "You still think I'm submissive."

"No, I don't."

Rey arched a fiery brow, fighting all the sparks of pleasure leaping through her body, burning away her common sense. "Good. Finally getting smart?"

"Rey, I don't think you're submissive. I _know_ it." 

She gaped at him, then shut her mouth. Bastard! Fine. He was entitled to his own opinions. She had her own, thank you very much. He clamped his fingers around her nipples again and squeezed.

"Stop it! I didn't give you permission to touch me!"

In an instant, his smiled disappeared. "I won't ask for permission, so stop playing these little games with me. I know you, Rey. I know the rest of your story, who you really, truly are. You are the brave woman who took a chance with me after being shot at, the woman gutsy enough to alter her own appearance in a strange town with the help of a man she'd known for all of a few minutes---hell, the woman who talks about sex on TV....you are the woman, not the one who keeps running from herself."

His words smacked her between the eyes. She bucked again, struggling to break free. He'd called her a coward for trying to be sane! Unreal.

"I'm not running from myself! I'm trying to get away from you! I wanted protection, not a goddamn mauling!"

Sending her a sharp smile. Ben eased a hand down her rib cage, over her hip, a soft contrast to the unyielding bindings at her wrists and ankles. Damn him for being so warm and looking so scrumptious shirtless, so totally male and confusing the hell out of her. 

He could make her needy and angry all at once. And angry because she felt needy. Damn! He was using his personal experience to crowd her, cloud her of judgement, overpower her good sense. And she had to stop her body from falling for it.....

"That was me against the door this morning," she ground out. "I'm not running and I'm not playing a game here! You're just expecting something that's not me."

"Yeah, that was you this morning, but it wasn't all of you. You're capable of deeper submission. You let me touch a part of what's inside you. But you held back on me. Yeah, I saw that; don't look so surprised. The deep part, the dark one that wants to be dominated and fucked, that's the part you hid from me. That you deny exists. You have the guts to defy this sick asshole trying to stalk you, but not enough to take the pleasure that I'm offering." 

Rey ignored the intense heat wave that flowed with his words---and the sight of his thick erection pushing insistently at his jeans. She focused on her anger instead.

"Maybe being around too many female doormats has made you assume that all of us live to roll over and spread out legs just for you on command!"

"You want to submit because you're strong, because when you're fucking, you don't want responsibility. You want a man who can understand you and give you exactly what you need---all without saying a word."

"Is that the kinky version of Dr. Phil you're trying to throw onto me?"

"Watch that mouth of yours, Rey. I own a ball gag. I know how to use it," he growled.

At his gravelly threat, Rey's mouth snapped shut. Fury and desires both spiked inside her, threatening to boil up and and up until it all exploded.

"I listened to you. I know you've been looking for a man strong enough to force your surrender in the bedroom. You've never explored your darker side, Rey. I know you'll respond perfectly to what I want. I sense it in you, see it in you. Such pain in you, such anger---just give yourself over to me and I can show you everything your body craves."

Male confidence and the physical power to back it up---all with that smooth criminal that wreaked havoc on her senses. Heaven help her. Ben looked so convinced of every word he had said. Rey trembled. For most of her life, she'd had....urges, curiosities. Fantasies.

Didn't everyone? That didn't mean she wanted any of those fantasies to become a reality. 

She shook her head at him. "If you'd stop pushing your twisted needs onto me just for one second, you'd figure out that I'm just a normal girl."

His shoulders tensed, arms bunched. He looked ready to grind his teeth. Then his expression smoothed, until no trace of anger, or any emotion, remained. He merely leaned over and worked at the knots at her left wrist, then her right. 

He repeated the process with her ankles, careful not to touch her anywhere. That quickly, she was unbound and free, no longer at his mercy. An odd emotion slammed into her, like she was....empty. Bereft. Rey curled her knees up to her chest and watched Ben yank in his shirt.

He didn't look at her---or avoid her, either. It was as if she was irrelevant. She felt suddenly alone, even though he was in the room, gathering up the velvet ropes.

"Ben...." she blurted, without having any idea what she was going to say. Rey only knew his indifference hurt her. 

"Yes?"

That expression. He could have been talking to anyone---a complete stranger, about nothing more vital than the weather. The irony of his accusation fired up her temper again.

"Talk about playing games! You don't get your way, so I get the cold shoulder?"

He ambled back to the bed and eased down on it, a good two feet away. No part of him touched her, and she ached for his hands on her. What the hell was the matter with her?

"If you're not willing to be who and what I know you are, I can only give you what you asked for: platonic and professional."

Rey knew she ought to be rejoicing. She wasn't submissive at heart. A few scattered fantasies didn't make her any dom's dreamboat. She wasn't really wired like that. So why did part of her yearn to call her words back, return to the moment she'd awakened and discovered his beautifully bare chest crowding her as he bent over to lap at her nipple with his blazing tongue? 

Yeah, and what would you do if you could, just spread your legs like mindless twit? Rey honestly didn't know the answer. She just knew she couldn't let the conversation end with this chill between them.

"You're angry with me."

"Resigned," he corrected. "You're going to hide from yourself, and that's that. I'll leave you to go back to sleep."

Standing, he sent her a regretful glance, then turned his wide back on her. Rey stared at the solid breadth of his shoulders. Power, control, intelligence, patience. Everything she'd ever wanted in a man. And she was letting him walk away from her. 

Did that make her a coward? Or had she just let Ben into her head and confuse the hell out of her? She bit her lip to keep her response, but the words scorched through her mind and were quickly out of breath. 

"Fine. I've had thoughts about submitting. Nothing serious."

Ben paused and turned back to look at her again, expression carefully blank. "Go on."

Conscious of her near nudity, Rey kept her arms tightly curled around her knees, covering her bare breasts. "I'd be lying if I said it had never crossed my mind. I just know me. And that's not me."

"Why do you think that?"

She frowned. "Why shouldn't I?"

"You've never been submissive to any of her previous lovers. How could you know something is not for you without trying it at least once? If you're having fantasies, the reality may be even more appealing." 

Thoughts chased one another in Rey's head. He couldn't be right. She only had to smell cooked cabbage to know that she didn't like it, right? 

Weak analogy. The fact was, she avoided submitting in part because of the shame Poe had forced on her, because of the horror she knew her mother would express if Rey gave in to such wicked urges. Ben leaned in closer, making it hard for her process her thoughts logically. 

He smelled amazing. Man and spice, cypress and leather and warm skin all rolled into one incredibly attractive package with abs so tight she could probably bounce a quarter off them. The man was temptation on two legs. What if she tried submitting? To him. Just this once. And if she liked it, Poe would be right. She wasn't....abnormal was she?

"I can almost hear the thoughts spinning in that pretty head of yours, Rey. You're thinking way too hard. It's simple."

"No its not! It's my body, my..." Rey shook her head, trying to put it into words. 

"Your life? The way you see yourself? I know. But would you rather tell yourself you were adventurous enough to try something once or have to admit that you were so cared you ran away before even dipping your toe in the water?"

Why the hell was he pushing her so hard? "Stop it, Ben! This isn't about you! You just want to get laid!"

He slanted a self-deprecating smile--one that made her toes curl. "I want you, Rey. I've made no secret about that. But I also don't want you see you so miserable when the truth could set you free."

"I'm not miserable. I love my life!" 

"I'm sure you love every part of your life....except when it comes to sex. If you have the courage to find the truth, spend one night with me," he challenged. "Just one, but my way. Tomorrow if you didn't like it, no harm done. I'll never touch you again."

Lord, there it was---a challenge to find the truth, one that could be both simple and ugly. Rey sighed. Ben was right. She had never enjoyed sex, never explored the side of her psyche that wracked her with fevered dreams.

Maybe...maybe those two facts were related. Maybe it was time to assuage her curiosity. She'd indulged her wicked fantasies once, and when they'd been fulfilled, she'd be over them. And if Ben was just using her for sex....well, why couldn't she use him, too? A mad sex scientist in decadent bedroom experiment. He was absolutely no hardship to look at, and when he was buried inside her, the pleasure was tense enough to make her lose her mind.

With his help, she could rid herself of the nagging desire to be dominated by a man when it came to sex. The she could go back to a normal life and shake off Poe's slurs and, someday, move into a new relationship with a clear head.

"I'm not a coward and I'm not a submissive. Mount up cowboy and I'll prove it to you." 

He took her hand. "You need to find this out, once, and for all." Whatever. By tomorrow they'd both know the truth. He'd know he was wrong. She nodded. "We need a safe word."

"All right." She didn't pretend to misunderstand. She'd read enough to know what it meant. "If I say the _word._...swamp, you'll stop everything."

He nodded, dark hair skimming his wide forehead. "You say swamp, and we're done. But before you use the word, be absolutely certain you're in ache pain beyond your bearing. Mild discomfort isn't good enough. Either physically or mentally. I'm going to challenge your traditional notions about sex. I will dare you to give more of yourself than you ever have. There's no place to hide here, Rey. I want to be totally clear. Are you ready for that? If not, I need you to tell me so.. _.now._ " 

_No._ "Ready to show you that you're wrong about me? Sure." 

Ben fought back a smile tugging at his mouth. "Good."

With that, he stood and tore off his shirt again. His rippling shoulders straightened. Expression dissolved from his face. An air of authority impenetrable and intimidating, surrounded him. As fast as lightning, as forceful as thunder crackling across the sky. 

Rey shivered, even as she told herself to hang tough. "You know the rules, Rey. I'm master. Everything that I say is absolute. You do what I tell you, when I tell you, how I tell you. You don't question anything. You simply do. And trust me, I'm going to hurt you." 

She trusted him....really, she did. He'd done nothing so far that caused her any real harm, but she knew she was holding something back. He had called her out on it and she had slowly come to realize that he'd been right this whole time. So what was she so afraid of? She'd wanted this in her dreams, her fantasies. 

There was something about Ben Solo's dark nature that both frightened and lured her into his world, but she didn't quite know what that certain something was....yet. 

He clutched the velvet ropes in his hand, his thumb caressing the soft length of one. She tried to forget the feeling of those soft ropes at her wrists and ankles, holding her down tight, keeping her in place for him to do with her body as he pleased. Even the thought made her gut cramp with list. No, no, no. It wasn't just sexy, just...weird. 

A ghost of a smile graced his mouth when he caught her staring at the velvet bindings. "Very good." A shiver went down her spine, and she looked away. But it was too late. He'd seen her gaze fixated on the ropes. His voice, unusually gravelly, rumbled as he then demanded. "Take off the thong, Rey."

*********

Ben watched Rey tense, hesitate, her arms still wrapped around her knees, as she struggled mentally with his command. Normally, this sort of faltering would be a punishable offense. She was new to all this, her mind still pushing back from the mastery her body begged for. For now, he'd stay paitent....as much as he could. But the reality that Rey would soon be under him, spread wide, his to do with as he pleased, was driving him to the brink of control. 

Swallowing down a lump of choking lust, he regarded her with a hard expression. "When I give a command, I expect it to be followed immediately. Take off your thong now or use the safe word."

She bit that lush lower lip. The sight made his cock throb inside his jeans. God, he wanted that mouth of hers around him, those bee-stung lips stretched wide to take him, pull him in deep, that little tongue darting over the head. _Patience_ , he settled himself. Good things come to those who wait.

"I thought....don't we at least kiss or something first?"

Damn, she was naïve. She really had so much to learn if she was ever going to successfully submit. And he was dying to teach her everything. Sometimes that meant playing hardball.

"You're questioning me again," he warned. "If I thought now was the right time for a kiss, I would have demanded one. You're behaving like a child, a little girl too scared to face her own wants. And you're wasting my time," Ben turned his back on her.

He took a step toward the door, then another, and began to wonder if this gamble was about to explode in his face.

"Wait! I'm just scared. This is new for me," she said softly. "I....I don't want to like it."

Ben turned back to her. Finally, some honesty. That was a step in the right direction. "What do you call me in the bedroom?" he challenged.

"Sir."

The word trembled from her lips, and it seared him like a hot poker, shoving a slam of desire up his cock. To reward her, he moved to her side and cupped her cheek in his palm. "You need to learn to face yourself, Rey. I'm not the enemy here. I can help you."

"I just can't stop thinking that---"

"You know the rules, Rey. Don't think. Just obey."

She sighed. "I've never been good at obedience, sir. Just ask my mother."

Smiling, he promised," I'll never ask you to clean your room or take out the trash. Obeying me will be a lot more pleasurable and enjoyable, I assure you."

Rey smiled back and sent him a shaky nod, innocence and need both shining from her hazel eyes. His heart turned over in his chest. Damn, she was so beautiful, so uncertain. Something about her made him want to fuck her in every way possible and reassure her of her perfection while he was doing it. Crazy notion....

Stepping away, he blanked the soft amusement from his face and crossed his arms over his chest. "One last chance. Take off the thong, Rey." 

She paused a mere second before she released a deep breath and eased off the bed, exposing her lush, pale breasts, framed by the golden camisole. Her nipples still stood hard and rosy from his sucking. Fresh lust kicked him in the guilt, pulsed in his balls, as she sent him a hesitant glance, then hooked her thumbs in the lacy strips over her hips. Slowly, so damn slowly he tried not to hold his breath, she began pulling the thong down, displaying more pale-perfect skin dotted with tiny, faint freckles.

Then she exposed the dark hair guarding her pussy. Ben clenched his jaw. He was dying to taste her. She was already slick. Totally wet and ready. Knowing that was killing him.

Finally, her thong made it to the floor. She straightened, casting him an uncertain glanced, but played brave by throwing her shoulders back and holding her head high. Ben knew from the way she squirmed that she was fighting the urge to cover her breasts with the camisole hanging from her shoulders and place a hand over her mound.

But she didn't. His respect for her courage climbed up a notch---as did his eagerness to have her completely at his mercy. 

"Now pick up the thong."

Rey stared at him, a little frown crinkling between her brows as she looked for the logic in his request. He'd break her of that habit eventually. 

"Don't make me repeat myself," he warned. 


End file.
